THE EMPRESS
by ravendarkholme23
Summary: "I'm not a criminal, I'm a magician." "In your case – same difference." In which, an FBI agent with a slightly shady past falls for a magician on the run from the very agency she works for, as she attempts to catch him and avoid falling in love with him at the same time. {Now You See Me} {Jack Wilder / OC} {COMPLETE}
1. PROLOGUE

**_Quoting Voltaire_**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

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 _"'_ _Originality is nothing but judicious imitation. The most original magicians borrowed one from another.'"_

"You copied that from Voltaire and changed 'writers' to 'magicians,' Sinclair.'"

 _"_ _I just proved my point, Agent Grumpy Pants."_

 _(Clarissa Sinclair and Dylan Rhodes)_

 **XXXXX**

Clarissa Sinclair wasn't one to allow people into her heart, but when she did, she usually held them close.

Jack Wilder was one of those people – a man that cared a lot about Clarissa and was more than happy to have her keep him close.

But sometimes, work gets in the way. Especially if one person is a thief and the other is an FBI agent tasked with catching them.

 **XXXXX**

In which, a sarcastic, FBI badge toting woman lets a happy-go-lucky, card-throwing magician breach the walls around her heart.

 **XXXXX**

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 **New story! Whoot whoot!**

 **And I promised myself I wouldn't start a new story until I finished writing** ** _Desperado_** **...**

 **Oh, well...nevermind.**

 **Please favourite, follow and most of all: review! Tell me what you think of the story so far after I post the first chapter. It would mean a heap to me.**

 **Thank you, wonderful readers!**

 **~ Raven**


	2. CHAPTER 1

**_Accidental Meetings_**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

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Clarissa pushed her dark hair out of her eyes as she walked down one of the bustling streets of New York. Her hands were thrust deep into the pockets of her black leather jacket, the rings decorating her fingers cool against her skin. Her dark blue jeans clung to her thighs and her heels clicked across the ground. It wasn't exactly cold where she was, but the docks always brought a slightly cool chill with the breeze. Stopping, Clary pulled out her phone, which was ringing incessantly, noticing the ever familiar number.

"Hey, papa." Clarissa greeted and tugged subconsciously on the handcuff bracelet that she always wore, which had been gifted to Clary on her ninth birthday by her father.

" _Riss, where are you? The plan is in motion."_

Clary laughed slightly, "I know, papa. I'm heading to the docks now."

Clarissa heard her father grumble for a bit before he mumbled a 'goodbye' and hung up quickly. The brunette pushed her phone back into her back pocket and headed to the small café near the docks.

After a short wait in an even shorter line, a cup of coffee was held loosely in her thin hand as she navigated her way through the crowd. Clary moved towards a table, only to be ran into by a solid body.

Clary's coffee hit the ground, splattering over her knee-high leather boots, "Oh shit."

The man who had bumped Clarissa seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Shit. Sorry, I'll buy you another one. I'm so…" The man's voice trailed off as he looked properly at the woman in front of him. She was beautiful, to say the least, and her green eyes held his brown ones as soon as they met. She was pale and thin, lithe, like a dancer, with well-defined cheekbones, long brown hair and a few freckles scattered over a petite nose.

Clarissa wrinkled her nose slightly, glancing at the spilt coffee. "It's okay. A little coffee doesn't hurt anyone." She extended a hand to the gaping young man in front of her, "Hello, I'm Clarissa Sinclair."

"Jack…" The man muttered before he cleared his throat, "Uh…I'm Jack Wilder."

Clary smiled, her silver and black painted nails disappearing back into her jacket pockets, "Well, Jack, I think you owe me a coffee."

Jack smiled – a crooked, boyish smile – at the woman in front of him, something about Clarissa drawing him in completely and making him feel like he could trust her. "Lead the way. It's my treat."

 **XXXXX**

Clarissa was a very closed off person.

The young woman was an agent of the FBI, something she didn't tell many people, and it was a dangerous line of work. It didn't leave many opportunities to make close friends.

Her closest friend was Dylan Rhodes, another agent that she worked closely with on a regular occasion – someone who'd almost become her field partner – and had basically the same sarcastic and closed off relationship she had with most people. Clary let all of two people call her 'Clary,' Dylan being one of them and now Jack. Her father being the exception that occasionally called her 'Riss.'

Even as she was, Clarissa Sinclair had a unique talent of drawing people in, despite her _own_ dislike of having people close. Her afternoons usually consisted of drinking coffee and reading the same novels she'd read over a million times. Yet, she had instigated a coffee-date with a stranger who bumped into her, even though she shouldn't have.

That being said, Clary somehow found herself sitting beside a young man in a booth, in a coffee shop. Enjoying herself no less, feeling completely at ease.

 **XXXXX**

Clarissa had a unique way of laughing, Jack had discovered that fact over coffee. She would close her eyes, and tilt her head back – letting the lights above the pair flash over her petite features. Clary stopped laughing and met Jack's eyes. They had spoken about a lot – their favourite colours, their favourite foods – and somehow, had become close in the few hours they had known each other.

Jack shook his head, "I'm serious, Clary!"

"A person can't annoy that many people in one go!" Jack had been telling Clary all about why he had been running when he'd bumped into her, well, aside from the part where he'd stolen the man's money.

Clarissa closed her eyes briefly, a smile still tugging at her lips. "It's been amazing talking to you, but I actually should go. My lunch break is only ten minutes long."

"What do you do for work?"

"Not much, just some odd jobs. I currently work in an office," Clarissa told him. "You?"

Jack grinned – more of a smirk than anything – and answered in what he hoped to be a neutral tone, "I'm unemployed. What about you?"

Clary looked steadily at the man in front of her. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't being entirely truthful, she knew it; being able to tell when someone was lying was a necessary skill in her work. Whether he didn't count it as a job, or he preferred to think that it wasn't, Jack Wilder did have something that classed as 'work' and for some reason he wasn't telling Clary about it. They stared at each other for a moment, before Clary looked away.

Reaching for her phone, which had been ringing, Clarissa turned to Jack. "I'm sorry, I have to go – probably my boss calling to tell me I've been on my break for too long." The brunette stood, slipping her leather jacket back on.

"Will I see you again?" Jack's question and his hand on her hip made Clary turn back around and smile at him.

She placed her hands on his waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She slipped a piece of paper into Jack's pocket and stole his wallet and belt at the same time, "I'm sure you will, Jack. Call me, okay? Even if we can't meet up, just call to talk."

Jack smiled back at the green-eyed beauty, nodding quickly, and watched her walk away, letting out a deep breath and pumping his fist in the air. He's run into a beautiful woman, spilt her coffee on her shoes, been awkward and _still_ , she'd gone out with him and to top it off, had even given him her _number_. Grinning even wider, the young man began to walk away, shoving his hands into his pockets. He frowned after a moment, checking for his wallet and not finding it, only pulling out a small slip of paper with Clary's number on it, her wallet – which housed seventy dollars and her ID – and a card from the other pocket. The card was a tarot card with 'Death' written on it and a date and address. The brown-haired male frowned again, staring at the card in thought, how'd it gotten there? And where had his wallet gone?

As soon as Clary was an average distance away so that the Wilder man couldn't hear her conversation, Clarissa answered her phone. A hard expression settled over her previous carefree one as she walked, and she checked her watch. "This is Agent Sinclair."

She waited as the man on the line spoke, before she scoffed, "Oh, just calm down, Rhodes. Yeah, I know, I just went out for coffee. I'm, like, ten minutes late! I'm coming back to meet you now." Clary hung up and shook her head at her agent's antics.

Clarissa glanced behind her quickly, seeing Jack walking away and smirked, slipping the pick-pocket's wallet – containing one-hundred and twenty dollars, an address of a hotel on a slip of paper and his ID – out of her own pocket. The woman flipped the wallet in her hand, before sliding it back into her pocket and tightened the newly-acquired belt around her waist. Jack was _good_ but Clary was _better_.

Clary's phone rang, "Hello?"

" _I think I might need my wallet back_."

"And I think I might need mine back," Clary chuckled. She was really glad that she didn't keep anything that verified her as an FBI agent in her wallet. "You might need your belt and the address of the place you're staying at too."

She heard him moving around, searching for the belt that should have been in the belt loops of his jeans, which wasn't there, " _Oh, you're good._ "

Clarissa shrugged, "I saw you steal my wallet, so I thought I'd return the favor – and more. So…coffee tomorrow?"

" _Yeah_ ," Jack laughed, " _That'd be great. But what about dinner tonight?_ "

The green-eyed girl bit her lip, "Hmmm, that'd be better. I kinda need my wallet – my license in particular. Well, judging by the fact I know the address of the place you're staying at and the lack of car keys in your jacket pocket, I'll pick you up at six."

" _It's a date. And I'll bring your wallet_ ," Jack promised. " _You can pick the place, and…we'll split the bill._ "

"I like the way you bargain, Mr Wilder. I'll try to remember to bring your wallet…and your belt…"

Jack huffed over the phone, " _I hope you do. That's the only belt I own and I don't need my pants falling down at dinner. I'll see you tonight._ "

"I'm looking forward to it." Clarissa hung up, looking almost dreamily at her phone, before hurrying on to work. But even the small yell she received from Rhodes wasn't enough to wipe the smile off her face.

 **XXXXX**

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 **Oooh, what's the plan?**

 **And they've met! Oh my god!**

 **Okay, please tell me what you think of the story! It would be great just to get constructive criticism!**

 **So, tell me how you like Clarissa and can anyone see the (slight) reference to** ** _Now You See Me: The Second Act_** **? Message me if you do!**

 **I imagine Clarissa Sinclair to look like Willa Holland and if you go to the link to my Polyvore account, you can find what I imagine she'd wear. Slight bit of background info: Clarissa is half-French on her mother's side, hence the 'papa' not 'dad.' Her mother is not going to be mentioned, she is deceased. Clary's father is a part of the movie and to those who figure out who: Yeah, I know it's predictable. Yeah, get over it.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Please review, follow and favourite!**

 **~ Raven**


	3. CHAPTER 2

**_Magicians Robbing Banks_**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

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FBI Agents Sinclair and Rhodes walked out of the casino. A year had passed since Clary had first met Jack and her partner had seen the visible brightness that the meeting had created for her – almost everyone had. Clary had opened up to people more easily and was making more friends – or at least acquaintances that liked her – even though she wouldn't admit it.

Clarissa turned to Dylan, "I'm telling you, I have a bad feeling."

The brunette sometimes had these really distinct feelings and even though even _she_ found it odd, she was usually right in the sense that something bad was going to happen.

Dylan Rhodes looked at the younger agent beside him, "I know, Clary, and you're hardly ever wrong." His phone began to ring and he motioned to the tall man beside Clarissa, "Hold up here."

Both Clary and the man nodded, but the woman stayed with Dylan when he answered the phone, "Dylan Rhodes. What? I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you say magicians?"

Clarissa widened her eyes in confusion and when Dylan moved the phone, pressed her ear to the other side of the device to hear. " _Yeah, Dylan, magicians_." Clary heard Agent Fuller say over the phone and wrinkled her nose, "Where are you now?"

" _Oh, hey, Sinclair._ " Fuller greeted on the other end of the line, " _I'm at Aria. I'm heading up there to grab 'em now_."

Clarissa tilted her head and looked at Dylan, "Oh, shit."

 **XXXXX**

"Boss, please tell me this is a joke," Dylan exclaimed as he followed after Agent Evans. "We just got Willy Mears to finger Paulie Attanasio. We're a month, two tops, away from blowing this whole thing open. Get Turkelson."

"He's in Atlantic City," Evans replied and Clary raised a brow, perplexed on why she and Dylan were forced to leave a case for another, one about magicians no less.

"What about Cowan?" Clary asked with a glare aimed at the balding man with glasses, who sat at his desk. "He's useless."

Dylan nodded, "Look at him. He's just sitting there on his ass."

"Hilarious, Rhodes, Sinclair." Agent Cowan retorted from his desk and Clary sent him a sarcastic wink as Dylan pushed open the door and added a mocking, " _I love you_."

"Assholes." Clary heard Cowan mutter but followed Dylan, not having the energy to send another glare at the man.

"I don't have time for this magic crap," Dylan complained to Fuller as he emerged from an office, holding a file. Clarissa saw a blonde woman, probably a few years older than herself, standing beside the window. Clary had near genius intellect and despite the average agent age of thirty, at only twenty-four, Clarissa was one of the youngest FBI agents in history. And doing terrifically, if she could say so herself.

"This crap just pulled three million Euro out of a Parisian bank," Fuller said as he handing Clary the file, a smirk on his face. "Look over that, Sinclair."

Clary sneered at Fuller, _some_ people didn't respect her age, but didn't speak as Dylan questioned, "That's how much they got?"

"Yeah." Fuller nodded and Clarissa let out a low whistle in appreciation.

At Fuller and Rhode's looks, she asked, "What? That's impressive."

"Actually, three-point-two," The blonde near the window corrected and the men immediately went silent.

"Who is she?" Dylan asked Fuller lowly, but when he only got mumbles he turned to the woman, "Who are you?"

"Alma Dray from Interpol." Alma introduced herself, stepping closer, "I'll be working the investigation with you."

"You gotta be kidding me." Dylan groused, rubbing at his eyes. "It's bad enough they got me chasing down David Copperfield and Friends. Now I'm being saddled with–"

Clarissa cut Dylan off and spoke directly to Alma, "No offense."

"–with Interpol?"

Alma smiled gently at Clary, "I look forward to working with you, too, Agent Dylan, Agent Sinclair."

Dylan raised a hand before Clarissa could speak, "I'm sorry. I don't think I'm gonna need your help on this. Okay?" Dylan turned to Fuller, "Where's the French guy?"

"I already spoke to him," Alma remarked before Fuller could talk, and Dylan looked at her incredulously.

"Oh, you did? You spoke to my witness before me?"

"Your witness?" Alma questioned at Clarissa knew she was going to like the French woman, "I thought you didn't want the case. Besides, he's useless."

"Oh, really? Why is that?" Dylan asked, moving closer to Alma.

"Because he believes their magic was real."

"Oh, he believes the magic was real?" Dylan nodded sarcastically, "You're right, he probably is useless. Is it okay with Interpol if we talk to him, too?"

"Mm-hmm," Alma hummed, a smug smile on her face.

"Thank you." Dylan stalked from the room and the brunette stared at his retreating back.

"Ladies, ladies, you're both pretty." Clary drawled, arms crossed while she leant against the desk, and Alma laughed before the two women followed after the older agent.

 **XXXXX**

"I have never stolen a thing in my life, okay?" Étienne Forcier denied, jabbing his finger at the table, "I tried to give the money back, but they won't take it."

Alma closed the door with a click behind Clarissa, who immediately began to diffuse the tension in the room. "Okay, okay, okay, let's just say you robbed a bank."

"I did," Étienne admitted and Dylan waved his hand at the French man.

"Fine. Fantastic. You did. But since I'm new to this, can you explain to me how you went from Las Vegas to Paris in three seconds?"

Étienne's eyes widened in honest, childish belief, "With the teleportation helmet."

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Dylan asked, exasperated, flicking his head around the room to stare at the agents.

"He was hypnotized during the show," Alma supplied, the smirk still etched on her face. "I told you, he's useless."

Dylan stared at Alma harshly, not seeing the proud smile Clarissa was shooting Alma's way. "Okay, I'll deal with you when I'm done with this other bullshit."

At the word 'bullshit' Étienne suddenly stood up on the table, miming playing a violin. He did quite a good job in Clarissa's opinion, who had endured five years of violin classes that she wanted nothing to do with.

"During the show, half the audience was hypnotized to believe they were in the Philharmonic. I guess that "bullshit" was the trigger word."

Clary threw herself into the seat Étienne was previously sitting in and mimed a violin along with the French man standing on the table, as she stared at Fuller, her eyebrows raised in irritation, "No shit, Sherlock."

Both Fuller and Dylan ignored the younger woman. Dylan clicked at Étienne "Okay. Hey, hey, Coutez. Étienne, come on down from there. You're not in the Philharmonic." Dylan motioned to Alma, "How do you say "stop" in French?"

Alma titled her head at the man, her arms crossed over her chest. " _Stop_ ," the blonde woman replied dryly and Clary laughed into her hand.

"Tell him to stop," Dylan ordered but Alma just shook her head.

"No, I can't. You just have to let him finish his…" The Interpol agent looked for the right word.

"Movement," Clary supplied helpfully and Alma nodded in agreement.

"Okay, I need a time-out," Dylan headed to the door and pushed it open. "Too many French people in one room."

Clary rolled her eyes and scowled, being half French herself, and followed after the temperamental agent. " _Excuse me_ , Rhodes?"

"Agent Rhodes! Agent Sinclair!" Alma called from behind Clarissa and both agents turned in sync. Dylan made a noise of confirmation and Alma continued.

"I'm ordered by my bosses to provide a report. And until we have one, I'm here, like it or not. So we can work together, or you can continue to follow behind asking the same exact questions I'm asking. It's up to you."

After Dylan had grabbed some snacks from the small kitchenette – having already pitched a soda can at Clary's head, who caught it without looking away from the coffee she was making – the trio stopped in front of the closest window which held a young, dark-haired man. Moving closer, Clary's eyes widened and a breathless noise escaped her mouth, "Jack…?"

The man from within the interrogation room – who was handcuffed to the table – let out a slight snore and shifted. Clary felt slightly betrayed, even though she knew the feeling was unwarranted – she needed to hear what Jack had to say before jumping to conclusions. Clarissa didn't turn from the window; Dylan glanced at her in slight worry but hummed again, indicating that he was still listening to the blonde French agent.

Dylan turned and moved to the next room, which held Henley Reeves, and Alma stalked after him. "I'm not finished. I just flew twelve hours, after what was already a long day. And I do not handle jet lag well. So if you want to see who can be grumpier, I promise you, you will lose."

"Ooh, _damn_ ," Clarissa teased. "Rhodes, you know better than to mess with a grumpy French woman."

Dylan winced, having come into contact with Clary's fist the one time she had been made beyond measure and had kept pushing the subject, even after Clarissa had said, 'I don't want to talk about it.' He really didn't want to do that again.

"Hmm," Dylan droned again and Alma snatched the biscuit from his hand and tossed it back into the bag. "Mm-hmm. Fine. So which one of these idiots do you want to talk to first?"

The pair moved onto the next window. Dylan turned to look at Clarissa who was still staring at the room holding Jack Wilder. "Sinclair!" At her name, Clary turned to glance at Dylan who nodded towards the two rooms closest to her, "Interrogate Henley Reeves and Jack Wilder; Agent Dray and I will speak with Daniel Atlas and Merritt McKinney."

Clarissa dropped a nod, "Sure thing, Rhodes." Clary mock-saluted the higher-ranking agent, a smirk playing on her lips, and swung open the door to the beautiful redhead's room.

 **XXXXX**

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 **Okay, so this chapter skips the year the Four Horsemen were together and starts after they did their first show and robbed the French bank.**

 **I do have a chapter that has a few of the moments Jack and Clary shared throughout that year.**

 **So, I hope you readers like this chapter and I thank all of you who have favourited and followed.**

 **Please review, tell me what you think of Clarissa!**

 **~ Raven**


	4. CHAPTER 3

**_Interrogation Techniques_**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

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Clary swirled into Henley Reeves' interrogation room, her long brown hair floating in after her. Calmly, she fixed the chair Henley had been previously spinning and sat casually in the seat, her fingers laced together. Henley didn't know what to think of the woman; she was young, and instead of wearing dress pants and small, high-heeled shoes like most of the female agents she had seen, the brunette was wearing khaki jeans and knee-high leather boots. Rings – all silver and black – adorned her hands, and heavy silver bracelets blended in with the silver watch on her left wrist. The Sinclair woman was a slightly wild spirit and didn't obey rules – probably why she was with Jack even after he stole from her.

Clarissa smiled at Henley, who looked confused but smiled back anyway. "So, Ms Reeves. You're a very adept escape artist, that's very impressive. You were also the former assistant to Daniel Atlas, correct?"

Henley made a slight face at the mention of being a mere _assistant_ , "Yes, but I wanted to start a career on my own."

"I admire that; you're a strong, independent woman who has her own talents, and deserves to showcase them as a solo act, without an overly controlling boss watching her every move." At this, Henley beams brightly at the green-eyed woman in front of her.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours." Henley muttered extending her hand as well as she could, considering the cuffs, "Henley Reeves."

"Clarissa Sinclair," Clary shook the woman's hand. "Why aren't you gone yet?"

Henley frowned, "Gone?"

"Yes," Clarissa smiled, "You're an escape artist. You could be gone like _that_." Clary snapped her fingers to prove her point.

"I know. Why aren't you interrogating me like you should be?" Henley offered no further elaboration and answered with her own question. The young Agent Sinclair shrugged.

"Not really my thing. I'd rather just talk to you before I go talk to Jack."

Clarissa had slipped up when she called the other Horseman 'Jack.' When she had entered the room, she had only called Henley 'Ms Reeves,' not her first name and Henley had noticed. Henley thought over the past year, specifically when the youngest member of the Four Horsemen would return home after a day out, blushing, and smiled for hours afterwards, claiming that he had only been out for coffee. She recalled the one time that she had glanced over Jack's shoulder to find him texting a woman named Clary. "Jack, huh? Do you happen to be the 'Clary' he's always talking about?"

Clarissa didn't answer, suddenly becoming cold. Jack's lack of communication with the green-eyed woman had agitated her more than had liked to admit to anyone. "How did you rob the bank?"

"Magic," Henley replied, jazz hands used to their fullest, confused by Clarissa's sudden hostility and Clary sighed and stood. She stopped at the door.

"It was nice meeting you, Henley." A genuine smile touched both of the woman's lips and the brunette exited the room. Henley glanced down at the desk, where a coffee had somehow been placed without her noticing. Henley grinned at the steaming beverage before she drank it gratefully. Agent Clarissa Sinclair was certainly a beautiful and kind woman.

"Jack was right, she is a lovely person," Henley muttered to empty air.

 **XXXXX**

Jack was awoken by a sharp kick to the leg, hoping that whoever was kicking him wouldn't do it again if he didn't open his eyes. The person kicked him again, albeit less harshly, and the young man let his eyelids slide open. When his dark brown eyes focused, he was up in an instance.

"Clary? What are you–" Jack paused, a look of realization crossing his face at the badge clipped to Clarissa's waistband, "You work for the FBI? You didn't tell me…"

Clarissa sat in the chair across from him, a bored expression on her face as he trailed off. "Jack? You're a criminal who robs banks with his team of magicians? You didn't tell me…" Clary mimicked, her tone was snarky and she avoided his gaze, instead picking at her nails.

Jack sat back in the chair, slightly hurt by her response. "Why are you here?"

"I'm Agent Sinclair, I'm here to interrogate you." Clarissa refused to show how hurt she was by Jack's lack of trust in her and kept up the cool façade. But she couldn't find it within herself to hate him, or even dislike him in the slightest. They had spoken ever week for the past year, organizing a coffee-date as often as they could, and had been in an 'official' relationship for the last seven months. "How did you rob the bank?"

"We used the teleportation helmet to send Étienne to Paris, and then he stole the money. It was magic."

Clarissa leant closer to Jack over the table, "I don't believe you."

Clary almost toppled her chair over, ricocheting back into it, when Jack leant closer to her as well. His face had been an inch away from hers and he had seen the hurt swimming in her green eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you I was a magician?" Jack leant back in the chair, "Or that I was a 'criminal'?"

Clarissa ignored the quotation marks he made with his fingers at the word 'criminal' and she stood, putting her hands on her hips. "Goodbye, Mr Wilder."

Jack watched Clary as she walked towards the door, a sad expression on his face before the brunette turned quickly and pecked Jack's lips. Surprised, Jack froze but Clary's lips were gone by the time he managed to shake out of his shock. Without another word, Clarissa Sinclair strode from the room. Jack's shocked gaze followed her out, red tinting his cheeks.

 **XXXXX**

The magicians walked down a hallway, an agent escorting them out until they reached a brunette, who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Clary glanced up as they stopped in front of her, a smirk dancing along her lips.

Clarissa turned to the agent, "I have it from here, thank you."

"Of course, Agent Sinclair." Clary smiled at the man, loving that though she was young, she still received respect from her colleagues – well, aside from Cowan and Fuller. The five adults stayed in the corridor until the agent was gone. As soon as his back disappeared around a corner, Henley grabbed her hand.

"Thank you." Clary smiled, knowing she meant the coffee and for not making them walk with an escort. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Clary."

Clarissa faltered at that for a moment, before she grinned again, "It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Henley."

Daniel Atlas and Merritt McKinney sent questioning looks at Henley, who didn't even glance at them. She pulled Clarissa into a quick hug, the younger woman hugging her back.

"Go, come on," the brunette woman urged, "before Agent Rhodes arrests you for talking to me. He seriously just wants an excuse to."

Clary's eyes sparkled with mirth before she turned slightly to Jack. The man moved forward immediately, wrapping his arms around the woman; Clary tucked tightly against Jack's chest, her arms around his waist. The three other Horsemen had walked a few feet away and were watching the young couple with interest.

"Who's she?" Daniel asked the red-headed woman beside him and Henley smiled.

"That's Clarissa Sinclair."

"Jack's Clary?" Merritt asked Henley. He had noticed the name on Jack's phone and he had watched how the young man had reacted to the name when the Mentalist had asked – the letter 'C' had been floating around Jack's mind for months, as Merritt had told them. The Escape Artist nodded at the older man and Daniel huffed.

"As long as he doesn't get too attached." The trio watched as Jack pulled Clary into a long, loving kiss. They pulled away, the two were dazed as they looked at each other. Clarissa stood on her tiptoes to kiss Jack again – Henley smiled, they clearly loved each other, even if they didn't realise it themselves.

"Too late," Merritt muttered, grinning at the youngest member of the Four Horsemen and the FBI agent.

Henley turned to glare at Daniel, "Don't interfere, Danny."

Jack wandered back over to his team, and the quartet followed Clarissa with their eyes. Clary tossed her long hair over her shoulder and stalked away, a slight smile tugging at her lips. She threw a wink at Jack over her shoulder and when she turned away from the Four Horsemen, a dangerously bored look appeared on her face, masking her smile before she disappeared around the corner.

 **XXXX**

The Four Horsemen strutted out, past the black gate, to the white car waiting for them. Clary was glad no one questioned why they didn't have an escort. Clarissa could see Daniel open the door for his friends, and they all got into the car as Clary and Dylan hurried down the stairs to Agent Evans.

"Boss, what are we doing? We're letting them go?" Dylan asked, waving his arm at the car that was speeding off. "They all but admitted they're gonna do it again."

"About a half an hour ago, you didn't give a damn about them," Evans replied. "What changed?"

"I met them." Dylan retorted.

"Please," Clary remarked dryly. "You just don't like them because Atlas cuffed you to a table and McKinney talked about your daddy issues."

Dylan pursed his lips at her, about to speak, but Fuller jogged down the stairs, holding his phone. "Hey. Guys. Hey, I ran a check on the audience. Most of it was just filler. People that Tressler dragged in to pack the room. But guess who was sitting there in the back, filming the whole damn thing?"

"I don't know," Dylan stated.

"Thaddeus Bradley." At the blank looks he received from Dylan, Evans and Clary, he elaborated. "Thaddeus Bradley, the guy from TV with the DVDs and shows?"

Clarissa raised a brow and shook her head again, "No."

Fuller shook his head, rolling with their current ignorance of Thaddeus Bradley. "Okay, well, he debunks magicians. He exposes them. He shows you how to do their tricks."

"Get him on the phone." Dylan immediately ordered and Clary analysed Fuller's smug look and flicked her fingers in a pattern on her folded arm.

"You feel really smart because you already organised a meeting, didn't you?" The green-eyed girl smirked at Fuller, who was acting like an overly-excited puppy.

"I did," the man admitted, slightly miffed that Clarissa already guessed what he'd down before he told them. "You're having lunch with him in forty-five."

"Good." Dylan stated and began to head back up the stairs, "Sinclair better have been invited too."

Clary shot a shit-eating grin at Fuller who looked worried, obviously not thinking about that beforehand, "I'll deal with it. Don't get your knickers in a knot, Fuller."

Clarissa turned and walked after Dylan, not rushing to follow after him and enjoying the look of annoyance on the older agent's face.

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Clary is definitely a bit bi-polar when it comes to Jack.**

 **Ooh, Clarissa is quite clearly** ** _canoodling_** **with the enemy and she hates Fuller's guts. That's going to change - the hating Fuller part - but not by much.**

 **I am currently writing the sequel to** ** _The Empress_** **even though I haven't uploaded all the chapters for this story, so bear with me.**

 **Thank you all for the support, you are all amazing!**

 **Constructive criticism is always welcome.**

 **~ Raven**


	5. CHAPTER 4

**_The Past Year_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

 _"_ _I still can't believe I went to dinner with you. And now I'm stuck with you," Clary shook her head, as she walked down the street with Jack. It had been about a month and a half since Jack and Clary had met that day at the docks and the coffee incident had occurred._

 _The dark-haired man smirked, "I can't believe it either. I'm not happy you're stuck with me either."_

 _"_ _Liar." Clary was studying to become a psychologist and had already been doing so for a year and a half. Her favorite pastime was calling out when Jack was lying – and he lied a lot. "You can believe it and you're glad I am. What you can't believe, is that I haven't given you your belt back."_

 _Jack groaned, she always circled back to the offending article of clothing whenever she wanted to prove a point. Even though he tried, Jack was never able to steal it off Clary, and if he did, it was only stolen back by the green-eyed woman within ten minutes. The belt was currently threaded through her belt loops, on display, due to the blouse she was wearing being tucked in her jeans._

 _"_ _I still want it back."_

 _"_ _You're just jealous because it looks better on me," Clary flicked her hair and smirked at her friend._

 _The thief grumbled about girls and fashion as the pair turned into the coffee shop at the docks that they'd first had coffee in._

 _"_ _Get me a coffee, please!" Clary instructed, already moving to find a table._

 _Jack ordered the coffees without complaint and the girl behind the register smiled widely at him. "Is that your girlfriend?" She asked, pointing to Clary who was pulling her hair into a high ponytail._

 _"_ _Uh…no," Jack replied after a moment of staring at the beautiful woman. Her red lips, her swan-like neck, the layers of feathery, chocolate-brown hair – the way that Clarissa could attract the attention of anyone and_ keep _it. Jack turned back to the girl behind the counter, wishing what he was about to say wasn't true, "No, she's just a friend."_

 _The girl giggled, tucking a strand of dyed-blonde hair behind her ear and pressed a slip of paper in Jack's hand along with the change. "Well then, call me sometime."_

 _Jack merely nodded, not really having the intention to, and pocketed the money and paper. He walked over to the table Clary was at and sat down._

 _"_ _I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Clarissa asked with an exasperated sigh and twirled her chocolate curls around her finger._

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _Jack," Clary started slowly. "Just by walking in, you got the attention of four women, and counting." At his confused look, Clary tilted her head back at two women at a table behind them. The women were staring at Jack and when he looked at them, they both gave spasmodic waves and leering looks that were supposed to look seductive. The Wilder man barely concealed his shudder._

 _"_ _The two behind us – one woman is recently divorced and back on the market and the other is already having_ numerous _affairs. The cashier hasn't looked away from you since you sat down and she's currently glaring at me." Clary glared back and glanced up as a giggling girl brought the coffees over, the girl not looking away from Jack._

 _As soon as she left, Clary raised her brows. "Four – she's like a teenager!"_

 _"_ _Okay, so she was added to the list. Who's the fifth?"_

 _"_ _Me," the brunette replied nonchalantly, blowing at the steam rising from her mug. Jack's mouth dropped open at that. "You've always got my attention. I'm sure that if I let you out of my sight for even a minute, you could steal the wallet of everyone in this cafe." Clarissa suddenly checked her watch and swore. "Now, ladies-man, drink your coffee, I'm already late for work."_

 _Jack did as he was told, ignoring the way that his heart leapt. He always had Clary's attention – and that made him feel extremely special._

 ** _XXXXX_**

 _Clarissa sat in her chair, curled up in her sleep. A large textbook labelled: 'Psychology: Into the Mind' lay against her chest and her hair was up in a haphazard bun. A knitted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her reasonably warm and comfortable. Jack Wilder, who'd spent the night at her apartment – only to keep her company, nothing more – glanced up from the couch that he'd slept on and admired the sleeping girl. She was so beautiful, so relaxed in sleep. They had been friends for two months and they had been almost attached at the hip, spending every moment together when Clary didn't have work with the FBI (something Jack didn't know about) and Jack wasn't working with the Horsemen (something Clary didn't know about)._

 _"_ _Clary…" Jack mumbled, but the girl didn't move, aside from tightening her hold on her textbook and mumbling quietly._

 _The man got up, deciding to let her sleep and started to make breakfast._

 _An hour later, Clarissa woke to the smell of bacon and eggs coming from her kitchen. The woman stretched, reaching over her head and closing the book. "Jack?" She rubbed at her eyes as she walked into the kitchen, "What are you doing?_

 _"_ _Can't I make breakfast for my best friend?"_

 _The Sinclair woman pursed her lips. She was usually so cold and distant with people, and here she was, with a pick-pocket as a best friend who treated her well, respected the walls around her heart…and somehow, had made her start to fall in love him without even trying. That thought alone terrified Clarissa Sinclair._

 _"_ _I suppose so," Clary eventually said, moving to sit in a chair at the dining table. She turned to face him, "I assumed you would've left when I fell asleep."_

 _The brown-eyed man shrugged, expertly tossing the eggs around in the pan. "I fell asleep too." That was a blatant lie and Clary could tell. When she had fallen asleep, Jack was still fiddling with the deck of cards he had and had put the blanket around Clary. He'd made a make-shift bed on the couch, careful not to wake her as he did so, and fallen asleep there._

 _"_ _Liar."_

 _"_ _Am not," Jack denied, tossing the food onto two plates. "Besides, how would you know?"_

 _Clarissa raised a delicate brow and gestured to her book. "I'm studying psychology, specifically_ child _psychology, Wilder. And in my opinion, you count as a 'child.'"_

 _Jack placed a hand over his heart, giving her a look of mock-hurt, "I am offended, Sinclair."_

 _"'_ _Course you are…"_

 ** _XXXXX_**

 _"_ _We've been friends, what? Three months?"_

 _Clarissa frowned, looking up at Jack from her armchair. He was sitting in his own armchair, his legs thrown over the armrest. "Yeah…where is this going?"_

 _The Wilder man fiddled his cards in his hands. Clary hadn't really ever asked why he always had cards, she found that it was one of their unspoken rules. Don't ask about work. Don't ask about the cards. Don't ask about the odd-looking box in the bottom of Clarissa Sinclair's closet. Don't ask to visit Jack Wilder's house. And most of all: don't ask how their friendship worked with so many unspoken rules._

 _The brunette woman clicked her tongue. "Jack, you're doing it again."_

 _Jack looked up, "Doing what?"_

 _The woman raised a brow, "Fidgeting. You said it yourself – we've known each other three months, which isn't long for many people, but it is for us. You're my best friend and I know that you do that—" Clary pointed at the cards, "—when you're nervous."_

 _Jack stopped flicking the cards and met her green gaze. "What would you say…if I asked you to go to dinner with me? Like an anniversary of friendship?"_

 _Clary's book closed with a small 'snap' and gave Jack a pointed look. "Liar. Is that the best you can come up with? 'Anniversary of friendship'? Jack, if you want me to go to dinner with you, all you have to do is ask. Remember that I went to dinner with you the day I met you after you stole my wallet?"_

 _"_ _And you stole my wallet. And belt…" Jack trailed off. "I know. But dinner as in a dinner-date, not a dinner-dinner."_

 _Clary had to admit that Jack Wilder was one of the dorkiest, most adorable men on the planet. She was hoping that he'd finally build up the courage to ask her out, but she often wondered if it was her cold exterior that stopped him from doing so._

 _"_ _I would love to go on a 'dinner-date, not a dinner-dinner' with you, Jack Wilder," Clarissa teased and Jack blushed and smiled crookedly._

 _He shifted awkwardly, "Seven okay with you?"_

 _Clary pressed a light kiss to Jack's cheek and whispered, "Perfect," before she headed down to her room._

 ** _XXXXX_**

 _Clary walked down the street with Jack, her arm looped with his, "Dinner wasn't a disaster, which is good."_

 _Jack let out a sigh, "Yeah, I know, I was worrying all night."_

 _The brunette woman shook her head, "Stop worrying, Jack, just for a second." She tilted her head up, staring at the sky dotted with thousands of tiny, glimmering lights. "We're underneath the stars, the future looks good and we're here together. This night has been amazing."_

 _Instead of looking at the stars, Jack looked at Clary. "What's with you being all optimistic?"_

 _"_ _You're here with me," Clary admitted. "You, Jack Wilder, bring out the best in me."_

 _Clary was never one for cheesy romantic lines or moments, but when Jack grasped her hand in his and said, "You, Clarissa Sinclair, bring out the best in me too," she could've swooned._

 _In a moment of confidence, Clarissa turned to Jack and kissed him soundly. Their lips moved in sync for a few, perfect moments, but the pair darted apart when it began to rain._

 _The Sinclair woman groaned, "This is such a romantic movie scene!"_

 _Jack laughed, tugging on Clary's hand, "Come on, before it really starts raining."_

 _Clary laughed too, following after Jack, heading to her apartment. They walked down the street side-by-side, holding hands. "So, another 'dinner-date, not a dinner-dinner' sometime soon?"_

 _"_ _Next week – Saturday?"_

 _Clary tilted her head, a teasing smile on her lips, "I might be free…"_

 ** _XXXXX_**

* * *

 **Okay, so a bit of a filler chapter. I love Jack and Clary together, but really, I'm biased.**

 **Tell me what you think, too mushy? Relationship too fast?**

 **Thank you all for reading. Please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	6. CHAPTER 5

**_Arrogance Can Ruin You_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

"Mr Bradley started as a magician," Thaddeus Bradley's assistant said, as Dylan, Clary and Alma walked down a hall littered with posters of the man himself. "He was actually quite good."

"Really?" Dylan asked sarcastically.

The assistant nodded, "One of the best."

"You don't say," Clary added blandly, a fake questioning look on her face.

"'The greatest genius is in seeing through the illusion,'" Dylan read off a poster and Clary snickered. "That's a man who loves his work."

"Or is a little too obsessed with it," Clary stated. "Arrogance can ruin you," the brunette pointed to another poster of Thaddeus Bradley, "and his ego level is so high, he could touch the moon."

 **XXXXX**

"You sure I can't interest you in a glass of wine?"

"No, no, no," Dylan said as Clary shook her head, "No, thank you, sir. We're working."

"I will take one," Alma replied and at Dylan's look, shrugged.

Thaddeus grabbed a glass with what looked like water and swirled it around the cup. The liquid slowly became red and Dylan looked awed, "That's incredible. That's amazing."

"Red dye, palmed," Thaddeus showed his palm and Clary smiled widely and clapped.

"Is that how Jesus did it?" Dylan asked, "That's incredible. I'm sorry. Can I just take a minute here?" The assistant gave him a blank look. "You were one of the great magicians. Why did you stop?"

"Do you know how many people went to see magic performed live in the last half decade?"

"About one-point-six million," Clary supplied. The others stared at her. "What? I found out we were coming to see Thaddeus Bradley and did some research."

Thaddeus smiled at Clary and continued, "You know how many DVDs I sold in the same period? Five million."

"Right, so it's about the money."

"Well, the money is only there because the need to know is greater than the desire to be fooled. Like you, I detest those who prey upon the gullibility of the masses," Thaddeus explained.

"With all due respect," Alma stated, "isn't there a cost, though, to this game?"

"Cost?"

"I don't know. Careers. Lives," Alma hedged.

Clary caught on, "Oh, let me clarify for my French friend. _Lionel Shrike_."

"I'm sorry, who?" Dylan looked between Clarissa and Thaddeus, the woman's face blank as she looked at the older man.

"Lionel Shrike," Thaddeus directed his explanation at Dylan. "A middling magician who drowned in the Hudson River thirty years ago."

"On Mr Bradley's first special, he revealed all of Shrike's tricks," Alma's voice was quiet, calculated almost. "The next year, Shrike tried to stage a comeback. He was shackled inside a safe, and dropped into the river. But he never resurfaced."

"You mean he died?" Dylan asked and Clary nodded.

"Yeah, he died," she said bluntly.

"I didn't kill him," Thaddeus denied. "He killed himself trying to do something he wasn't prepared to handle. You do realize this is a game?"

"Believe me, it's not a game."

"It is a game. You're the game. You're being played. And your pathetic attempts at fawning to gain my trust...I mean, come on.

"Oh," Dylan said, an edge to his words. "You got me."

"We need to find a new _trick_ then," Clary added, eyes narrowed.

"If you really want to know how a bank in Paris was robbed from a stage in Las Vegas, my special comes out next month."

Dylan threatened, "Or I could just bring you in on obstruction charges and force you to tell me. Unless, of course, what you're trying to say to me is that you actually don't know how they did it."

Thaddeus smirked.

 **XXXXX**

Thaddeus, his assistant, Dylan, Alma and Clarissa walked into the stage area that the Horsemen performed their tricks in.

"Showmanship and theatrics. When a magician waves his hand and says, 'This is where the magic is happening.' The real trick is happening somewhere else. Misdirection. A basic concept of magic."

Clary walked around the stage, "Not interested in the concepts of magic."

"We wanna know how they robbed a bank," Dylan finished.

"You're idiots if you think they robbed a bank." Alma smirked from behind Thaddeus. "But don't take my word for it. How about a trip to Paris? Hermia, the teleportation helmet, please, darling?"

The assistant, Hermia, grabbed the teleportation helmet and moved towards Clary, who raised a hand, "Don't even think about it, lady."

Hermia froze seeing the look on Clary's face – it was _deadly_ – and moved to place the helmet on Dylan instead, who chuckled, "You're joking, right?"

"You wanna know how they did it or not?"

"I'm just gonna put this on your head," Hermia fitted the helmet over Dylan's head and the lights lit up.

"Oh, Dylan Rhodes," Clary teased, "That looks great on you, it complements the gray streaks in your hair."

"Shut up, Sinclair."

"Step right up," Thaddeus instructed and Dylan stepped into the teleportation contraption. "There you go. Now we just pull this down all safe and snug. Make yourself comfortable. There we go. And when you're ready to go to Paris, just say the magic word."

"Blow me?" Dylan asked blandly and Clarissa rolled her eyes.

"That'll suffice."

"Bon voyage," Alma said teasingly and Hermia pressed the button, making the contraption light up and slam closed.

Clary shrugged, "I just hope that I'm not mopping Dylan up."

 **XXXXX**

"Bonjour," Thaddeus greeted, as soon as Hermia pulled open the door to the vault. "I personally prefer to take the stairs to Paris. Welcome to the City of Light, Agent Rhodes."

"Hardy har har. What was with the helmet?" Dylan asked, taking off the helmet.

"My fun."

Clarissa nodded silently and Alma laughed. Thaddeus really intended to mess with Dylan as much as possible, the two already having a sort of rivalry.

"What?" Dylan asked.

"Nothing," Alma and Clarissa replied in sync, Clary not wanting to incur 'the wrath of Agent Dylan Rhodes.'

"Oh!" Alma laughed again and Dylan turned to Thaddeus, "So they got a vault set."

"Yes."

"And it's the exact replica of Étienne's bank," Clary mentioned. "But he's not a plant?"

"Correct," Thaddeus agreed. "He was a dupe, not a plant. They chose him. They knew which seat he was in."

"No, no, no, the audience picked the seat." Dylan saw Thaddeus narrow his eyes, "Unless, of course, the audience didn't pick the seat."

"They let them think they picked the seat."

 _"_ _We'll choose one at random then." Daniel Atlas told the crowd and Merritt and Jack switched the numbered balls in their hands._

"Actually, they were just palming the ball with the seat number they wanted," the Bradley man explained.

 _"_ _We are looking at row number 5. Henley, could I please have a seat number? Lucky number 13. Could you just confirm that this is, in fact, your seat?" Daniel showed the numbers up at the crowd._

"He was selected. They programmed his mind to make him go to Las Vegas."

 _"_ _Viva Las Vegas," Merritt mumbled as he passed Étienne._

"And then they kept reinforcing it, until he did."

 _Daniel tossed poker chips right under Étienne's nose, almost hitting him with them._

"They trailed him. They studied him. Nothing was left to chance."

 _"_ _Oh!" Henley bumped into Étienne and patted him down quickly, mumbling in French before she continued on. The redhead spoke into her phone, "I got his measurements."_

"He had no idea he was their target."

 _Jack led Étienne up to the stage._

"And they simply activated him in Vegas."

 _Merritt grabbed Étienne, muttering into his ear, "When I snap my fingers..." Merritt snapped his fingers and Daniel addressed the crowd, "And once again, Merritt McKinney."_

"But how did they know what bank was his?" Dylan asked.

Thaddeus looked at him, "You're kidding."

"Really?" Dylan said, exasperated. "Can you be any more of a condescending ass?"

"Yes," Thaddeus replied, making Alma giggle and Clarissa roll her green eyes. "Like this. There's a very rare, very mysterious way in which a magician divines an audience member's bank. You ready?"

Thaddeus clapped his hand to Dylan' shoulder, who nodded slowly, "Yes."

Instead of telling him, Thaddeus pointed at Clary, who he knew had figured it out. Clary raised a brow and crossed her arms, a look of disbelief on her face. Why did _she_ have to explain it to her no-nonsense partner?

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **New chapter, thank you so much for reading.**

 **To anyone who is reading** ** _Resolve_** **, I'm so sorry for not updating. I love The Flash (and Barry Allen) but it's so much more difficult writing for a TV series than a movie. I plan to write and update but I don't know when I'll get around to it. Just warning you there.**

 **Thanks again for reading and please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	7. CHAPTER 6

**_The Horseman's Trick_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

"Credit card. They used Étienne's credit card details. I'm assuming while Atlas, Reeves and McKinney reinforced Las Vegas in Étienne's mind, Wilder was stealing Étienne's credit card. They would've had to forge the signature," Clarissa stated dully, not really expecting Thaddeus to ask her. She'd try to be as invisible as possible, but she couldn't toss up the opportunities of sassing Dylan.

"And that's how they got the signature for the card they left in the vault in Paris," Alma continued, her hands in her pockets, having followed Clarissa's train of thought.

"Very good," Thaddeus praised. "You're being one-upped, Agent Rhodes."

"Twice," Clary reminded the older agent, making Dylan scowl slightly at her, although Clarissa could tell the scowl was fake.

Dylan turned back to Thaddeus, "Okay, but they had to get the signature card in the vault. You said they didn't steal the money."

"No, I didn't say they didn't steal the money," the older man corrected. "I said they didn't rob the bank. My guess is that they targeted a shipment of freshly minted money headed to the Frenchman's bank on-board an armored truck. Which, of course, is just as hard to break into. Unless you're already inside."

 _The truck stopped in front of a police bike and Merritt flipped the helmet shield up._

"And despite what the banks would have you believe, the men who drive these trucks are not exactly mental giants. For our Horsemen..."

 _Henley stabbed a needle into the guard's ankle, making him fall. The bottom of the truck opened up and Henley and Daniel got out of the tight space._

"It was almost too easy."

 _Merritt and Jack opened the doors of the truck, Henley greeting, "Hey, boys." The team immediately started to take the money out of the truck._

"So, how did they make the fake money disappear from the vault?" Dylan asked and paused as Thaddeus held up a slip of paper, "What is that?"

The paper burst into flames, "Hash paper."

 _The money in the vault burst into flames, destroying the fake money and only leaving the playing card with Étienne's signature._

"Magicians use it all the time. Creates no smoke, leaves no residue."

 _A woman and two guards from the bank walked into the vault, only to see no money. The woman stopped as one of the guards ran out, "Oh, merde."_

 **XXXXX**

" _We should be getting there a few minutes early. So, sit back, relax. We should be in the Big Easy soon. Appreciate you flying with us today_ ," the pilot's voice came over the intercom and reached the ears of everyone on the full plane. Dylan, Alma and Clarissa all sat in the same row – after a death glare from the five-foot-four woman, the previous occupant of her seat moved.

"So, what's in it for Tressler, besides the money?"

Alma looked up from the deck of cards in her hand, Clary didn't glance up at all, but the two answered in unison, "Ego."

Alma spread the cards she had been shuffling, offering them to Dylan. "Okay, pick your card. Look at it, put it in the deck, and tell me. No, don't tell me."

"Okay." Alma shuffled the cards again, "Okay. Thaddeus was there that night. He knows exactly how they pulled it off. What about him?"

"What are you saying?" Alma questioned.

Clary looked up from her novel, "He thinks they could be working together. That's what you're saying, isn't it, Dylan?"

"I don't know. All I know is that these guys were a bunch of street magicians a year ago with no resources. So, how do they go from doing that to this without some kind of outside help?"

Alma placed a card in front of Dylan, "Is this your card?"

"No, my card is being used as Clarissa's bookmark." The woman looked up, waving the playing card that had somehow flown out of the deck and into her lap while Alma's shuffled.

Alma laughed softly and Dylan complimented, "Nice shuffle."

"You know, this is hard," Alma told Dylan as he struggled out of his jacket. "According to this book, some of those guys practice one simple move eight hours a day for years."

"Really? Some of those guys seriously need to get a life."

Clary didn't look up as she retorted, "Oh, yeah and your life is _so_ much more exciting."

The two agents were almost like family – always taunting and insulting each other. In all honesty, Clary and Dylan cared so much about each other, but they found it best not to act like it in front of anyone else.

"Is it magicians, in general, you have a problem with?" Alma inquired, "Or specifically those guys?"

"I could care less about magicians in general," Dylan disclosed. "What I hate is people who exploit other people." Dylan finished pouring his drink, only for Clary to reach over and grab it. She took a sip and placed the glass back down, Dylan not even complaining, having gotten used to his partner doing that from time to time.

"Exploit them how?" Alma asked and offered the cards again, "Try again."

"Um..." Dylan picked a card and continued speaking. "By taking advantage of their weaknesses. Their need to believe in something that's unexplainable in order to make their lives more bearable."

"I see it as a strength. My life is happier when I believe that." Alma slapped the King of Diamonds down in front of Dylan. "Is this your card?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Dylan repeated.

Alma smiled widely and laughed, "Cool."

Dylan smiled as well, feeling that the blonde woman's smile was contagious and Alma pointed at him, "That smile on your face. Is it real?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, it definitely is," Clarissa piped up, wiggling her eyebrows at Dylan over Alma's head. "You must be _really_ special to get a smile out of him."

Dylan shook his head at the young woman's antics and smiled slightly at her.

"So let me ask you, Mr Detective Man," Alma smiled at Dylan. "Do you feel exploited? Or did you have maybe a tiny, tiny bit of fun?"

Dylan kept his eyes on Alma as Clary said, "Oh, the day Dylan admits that he is actually having _fun_ is the day the world explodes."

 **XXXXX**

"Hey. Come on, give me some good news on a hotel room, please," Dylan told Fuller on the phone.

" _What, are you kidding me? No, it's Mardi Gras, Dylan. There's nothing within sight of the theater._ "

Dylan glanced around, "Hold on a second. Hold on. Where are those women? Hey, hey!" Alma and Clarissa walked back over, having disappeared for a few moments. Dylan stared at Alma, "There you are. What, the French girl doing a little sightseeing while she's in New Orleans?"

"No. In fact, here, speaking French – is actually an asset," Alma told the grumpy agent.

"Please," Clary huffed, grinning at the blonde beside her. "Speaking French _anywhere_ is an asset."

Alma nodded in agreement while Dylan asked, "Huh?"

Alma turned to point at a dark-skinned woman on her balcony. The woman waved at them and Clary waved back. "Do you see that woman up there? That's Marie Claire. And she has a lovely apartment for us." Dylan looked between the theatre and the house and Alma patted his shoulder. "You're welcome."

"Yeah," Dylan mumbled and told Fuller, "We got a place."

Clarissa rolled her eyes, "Come on, you uncultured ass. A 'thank you' would be nice."

 **XXXXX**

Clary sat on the balcony, her head in her hands. Her job was to find the Horsemen and bring them in and that included Jack. She'd been thinking about it all day and she still wasn't sure what to do. With a frustrated sigh, the green-eyed woman watched the people enjoying the festival.

The young woman eventually got up and walked into the room to see Dylan and Alma in the middle of an argument. "If you want to keep playing into their hands, go for it. I'm just trying to understand how they think."

"You think I'm playing in their hands, do you? I don't know how any of that is gonna go against this."

"This what? This magic?"

"Lionel Shrike." Alma shoved her book into Dylan's face, showing him the page. "In Central Park, he has a guy pick a card and sign it. Then he goes to a tree that has been there 20 years. They saw the tree in half. Inside the tree, encased in glass, is the card with the signature. How did he do that?"

"I have no idea. But I'm sure there's a logical explanation. Excusez-moi." The agent brushed past the woman from Interpol and she swung around, annoyed.

Clarissa stood behind her, "Alma, calm down. Dylan will listen to you eventually, at least he will after he stuffs up again."

"You think he will?" Alma asked the younger woman, noticing how conflicted she looked.

"Yeah, he will. Dylan is too headstrong and the Horsemen are calculated – they've thought everything out so far. I'm sure they took a year to set this all up, that's why we're only hearing about them now." Clary placed her hands on Alma's shoulders, "He'll listen to you. And if he doesn't, I'll beat him up myself."

Alma nodded, biting her lip and Clary glanced out the window again. "If Dylan asks, tell him I'm a little French-girl who has gone sightseeing."

The blonde laughed, watching as Clarissa headed for her luggage to change.

 **XXXXX**

Jack glanced up at a flash of red standing in the doorway.

Unhindered, Clarissa Sinclair had weaved her way through the crowds and slipped into the theatre. She looked slightly out of place wearing black leather pants, knee-high boots and an off-the-shoulder red blouse with flared sleeves. Her rings and bracelets still adorned her hands and wrists and Jack swore his breath caught as Clary's red lips curved into a smile at the sight of him.

She had been almost been seen by Thaddeus Bradley as he left the Horseman's dressing room, but she'd hid just in time, waiting until he had left.

Clarissa smiled, watching the Horsemen turn, "Hello, Horsemen."

The Four Horsemen froze at the sight of the FBI agent in the doorway. The brunette was in Jack's arms in a second as he moved forward – the young woman held tight against him.

"What are you doing here?"

Daniel and Merritt were somewhat on edge, while Henley shoved the white rabbit she was holding into the Atlas man's arms to hug the woman as well.

"The FBI, we're here," Clary's green-eyes flickered between the four in front of her. "Dylan is out to catch you – tonight."

Daniel frowned at how comfortably Clary addressed the agent, "Dylan?"

"Yes, Dylan. Agent Rhodes. My partner. I've known him for years, call him whatever you want," Clarissa clarified. "You need to be careful. Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

Jack immediately promised and Clary turned to Daniel, Merritt and Henley, "You guys too. I care about the wellbeing of all four of you."

Daniel finally nodded and Henley replied, "I promise."

Merritt stared into Clarissa's eyes, who stared back unflinchingly and told him, "I care very much for Jack. I won't do anything to harm him, and that means not harming you."

"I promise," Merritt replied and turned to Jack. "Keep this one, I like her."

Clary smiled widely and kissed Jack quickly. "The FBI will be stationed around and Dylan, Alma and I will be in the stands." Clary glanced at them all again, "Good luck."

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **So, I know, the Four Horsemen already knew that the FBI were there, but I wanted something to solidify that Clary really did care about Jack and the Horsemen and didn't want them hurt.**

 **Sorry for the late update! Thanks for reading!**

 **Please review.**

 **~ Raven**


	8. CHAPTER 7

_**The Show**_

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

She couldn't tell if she felt bad or not as Clary made her way back to her seat beside Dylan. She cared for Jack – maybe even _loved_ him (she was still too scared to even _think_ about that) – she wasn't going to hurt him. But by not hurting him and instead helping him, Clarissa was betraying the organization she worked for.

"You okay?"

Clary looked at the agent beside her, taking in the worried expression on his face. The brunette squeezed Dylan's hand for a moment, "I'm okay, Dylan."

"Nice watch," Alma complimented when Dylan nodded and checked the time.

"It's a family heirloom."

Alma nodded, "Oh. By the way, I know how he did that trick."

Clary felt out of the loop, "Who?"

"Shrike," Alma clarified and the Sinclair woman nodded. "So, when he was fourteen, he saw a hole in a tree in Central Park. He had a guy who worked at the carousel sign a card for what looked like a routine little trick."

"And?" Dylan prompted.

"At the guy's retirement, eighteen years later, Shrike performs, has the guy sign a card, and presto!"

"The card is in the tree."

"It was in the tree for eighteen years," Alma added.

"The card was in the tree," Dylan repeated, "The tree grew around the card in eighteen years. I mean, that isn't magic. It's not magic."

Clary frowned, "Isn't that a bit much for only _one_ trick?"

Alma shrugged. "Maybe. The point is, the trick was not to look closely. It was to look so far that you see twenty years into the past. After Shrike drowned, they never found the body."

"What are you suggesting?"

Clarissa tilted her head, "Do you think there's a chance that he's still alive – in hiding somewhere?"

Alma shrugged and the Sinclair woman and Rhodes man kept their eyes on her until the lights dimmed.

"Arthur Tressler presents," the announcer began, "Jack Wilder, Henley Reeves, Merritt McKinney, and Daniel Atlas. The Four Horsemen."

At every name, each member of the Horsemen were spotlighted and the cheering intensified.

"Thank you," Daniel greeted the crowd. "Before we begin, we'd like to single out two people in particular. A man and a woman to whom we'd like to dedicate tonight's performance."

Henley took over, "FBI Agent Dylan Rhodes and the lovely, if somewhat inexperienced, Interpol Agent Alma Dray, everyone."

The crowd booed and Clary frowned, wondering why they didn't single her out.

"Dylan." The man looked at Clarissa at her hiss. "They don't know I'm here, I'll go and find another seat."

"Be careful."

"Yeah, Agent Rhodes has personally vowed to 'nail us.'" Jack said as Clary silently and discreetly slid away. From the stage, Jack inconspicuously indicated an empty seat purposely left for her and Clary blew a kiss to him.

Merritt stared up at Dylan, "And we encourage him to do so if he has the brains and the fur."

The crowd laughed at that and Clarissa shook her head as she sat in her seat.

"What is magic?" Daniel asked, the Horsemen moving back to stand further away. "Our argument, nothing but targeted deception. So I want you to look. Look as closely as possible. Because the tricks you are about to see may not seem connected. But we assure you, they are. Is what follows one-hundred different tricks? Or is it one giant illusion?"

The audience cheered loudly at that.

 **XXXXX**

"And now for one of the oldest tricks in the book." Henley and Daniel walked to the center of the stage, a lone box sitting in the middle. Henley held a rabbit and instructed, "Danny, if you wouldn't mind opening up the box, and showing everybody that it's completely empty."

Clarissa couldn't help but smile. For once, Daniel Atlas was the _assistant_ and Henley Reeves was running the show.

 **XXXXX**

"Now, we're gonna need twelve courageous volunteers," Merritt told the crowd.

 **XXXXX**

"I'm gonna take sweet little Fluffy here, and put her inside this mystery box." Henley placed the white rabbit in the box as the audience made a collective 'Awww' sound.

 **XXXXX**

"There are two pencils out there," Jack told the audience as he shuffled his cards. "Hold 'em up high. Let me see 'em."

"Here!" A woman said standing up.

Clarissa stood up, holding a pencil, having found it under her seat. She gave Jack a look and a small grin, "Yeah."

 **XXXXX**

"And now, you will say the magic word."

"Abracadabra," Henley said, smiling out at the audience.

Daniel extracted a wand from his jacket, "Yes, and I will wave this magic wand for no reason." He threw the wand over his shoulder, "And then..." Daniel opened the box, which was indeed empty and the crowd cheered, "Fluffy has magically vanished before your very eyes."

 **XXXXX**

"If you haven't experienced mass hypnosis, you're about to. And sleep." Merritt tapped the shoulders of every person in the line. "Down, down. Sleep, sleep. Completely sleep. Good, good. Sleep, sleep."

 **XXXXX**

"And now we are gonna debunk a few magic myths this evening." Henley and Daniel both looked up, staring directly at Thaddeus Bradley. "We all know that Fluffy is, in fact, alive and well." Daniel pulled down a mirror in the box, revealing the white rabbit. "And Fluffy has miraculously appeared."

Daniel grabbed the mirror as Henley picked up Fluffy, "As has the mirror which makes the box only appear as though it's empty."

 **XXXXX**

"When you hear the word 'freeze' you are all football players," Merritt instructed, making the audience laugh. "And your job is to tackle, dismantle, crush, tear limb from limb, the quarterback."

 **XXXXX**

"Now, we've all heard of pulling the rabbit out of the hat," Henley, still holding Fluffy, walked closer to the edge of the stage. "But has anyone heard of pulling a hat out of a rabbit?"

The redhead twisted her hands slightly and Fluffy 'transformed' into a black top-hat.

 **XXXXX**

"You will know who the quarterback is. He will be the one saying that word. Freeze."

 **XXXXX**

Daniel created bubbles with his hands, letting them gently float around the stage.

 **XXXXX**

"Three, two, one." Jack counted down with the audience and flicked the cards out. One card, one that had a signature on it, skewered itself onto the pencil the woman was holding. The woman laughed breathlessly and the audience clapped.

Clary let out a breath, holding the pencil out. Jack threw one of the playing cards, which sailed through the air and cut the pencil in half. With quite a bit of talent, Clarissa shot out a hand and caught the card as it flew past her face.

The green-eyed woman grinned, shot a wink at Jack, who was slightly shocked, and sat back down. She'd caught the card so easily, almost as if she had done it before…The audience cheered and clapped.

 **XXXXX**

"Put your hands in the middle." The twelve hypnotized people put their hands in the middle, "One, two, three..."

"Kill the quarterback!" They yelled and Clary's eyes widened, that was a bit aggressive.

"Get on back to your seats. I got a feeling I'm gonna be seeing you soon."

 **XXXXX**

Daniel made a big bubble appear and with a slight leap, Henley threw herself into it. The bubble encased the woman entirely and she floated up, flipping and almost dancing in midair. It continued on for a few moments, the redhead displaying her talent and making the crowd marvel at the sight.

The bubble suddenly popped and Henley fell with a slight shriek, only to be caught by Daniel. The redhead smiled and waved as the audience clapped and cheered – giving Daniel and Henley a standing ovation. Alma clapped but stopped at Dylan's look. The woman stood up to clap again as soon as Dylan looked away and Clary, who had glanced up at the pair, couldn't help but think that Alma was going to give Dylan a run for his money.

Clarissa quickly surveyed the audience, taking in the sight of Arthur Tressler higher up in a private balcony. She knew Thaddeus Bradley was closer to Dylan and Alma, recording the show. She frowned, biting her lip. Knowing the Four Horseman, they were going to get money out of something and the Sinclair woman had a strong feeling that Arthur Tressler was in the line of fire.

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **I'm sorry for the late update, but I don't think I will be updating again this week or next week. I have exams = blargh.**

 **Thank you for reading, it means a lot! Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story as well. And please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	9. CHAPTER 8

_**Emptying Bank Accounts**_

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

Merritt walked onto the stage, addressing the audience, "At the intermission, we asked you to write down your current bank balance, and seal it in an envelope. Now it's time to take those envelopes out. Everyone take 'em out."

Everyone moved to grab their envelopes and Clary sat still, having not written her balance down. "Now, everybody, shout out your name. All at once. Go."

The audience began to yell out their names, all the names blurring together.

"Shout 'em out." The audience kept yelling until Merritt asked, "Clement? Frannick?"

A man in one of the higher rows called out, "Yeah! Up here!"

"Oh. Way up there," Merritt acknowledged, before saying the next name. "Okay. Dina? Robertson?"

The dark-haired woman sitting beside Dylan stood up, "That's me!"

"Okay. Names. Names. Let's go." The people began to shout again and Merritt pinpointed a name. "Josepha Hickey?"

"That's me!" A woman with a wide, warm smile closer to the stage stood up.

"Josepha, I want you to focus on your balance, and count from one to 10 out loud," Merritt instructed and Josepha complied.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

"Stop," the Mentalist told her. "Is the first digit five?"

Josepha smiled, "Yes."

Merritt waved his hand, "Do it again. This time, faster."

The woman began to count again, speeding up, "One, two, three, four, five, six..."

"Stop. Six. Again."

Josepha frowned slightly in confusion, but did as instructed, "One, two..."

"Josepha, is your bank balance $562 as of today?"

"Yeah. That's what I got," Josepha said, looking disappointed again and the crowd clapped at the magician's talent.

Merritt shook his head ever-so-slightly, "Unfortunately, you're wrong. Okay, Dina, one, four, seven – seven."

"Yeah."

"You think it is. But in fact, you, too, are wrong." Merritt turned to Clement, "Uh, Clement...You do not have $6,500 in your account. In fact, everybody stand up. Everybody. Yeah. Put your envelopes to your forehead. Focus on your number." Everybody did so. "Ooh! Oh. This is... Oh, dear. Just as I feared. Oh, this is strange. You know, I hate to say this, but you're all wrong. Every last one of you is dead wrong about what you think is in your account. Okay, you can sit down now."

Daniel and Henley walked onto the stage and Daniel muttered something into the Mentalist's ear. Oh! Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. This evening would not be possible if it weren't for our great benefactor Arthur Tressler." Arthur waved as the crowd clapped.

"Big applause! Big applause!" Daniel offered, "Art, actually, why don't you come up on stage for the finale?"

"Come on down, Art!" Merritt called.

"Come on down, Art!" Henley repeated.

"There he goes," Daniel commentated as Arthur made his way down. "Okay, good. There he goes."

" _Are we on red?_ " Clarissa heard Dylan say through the walkie-talkie in her lap.

" _Bright red. We're all standing by_ ," Fuller responded and Clary couldn't help but let out a light sigh.

" _All right, no one leaves the theatre. No one._ "

Clary held the button of the device down, "Make sure you're ready to move, I know how lazy you can be, Fuller."

The brunette put the walkie-talkie down again, ignoring the grumbles that filtered through. Clarissa rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Arthur Tressler who had just gotten onto the stage.

Henley was holding Arthur's hand as they made their way to the middle of the stage, "Now, Art, did you fill out your envelope?" Arthur made a noise meaning no and the redhead patted his hand. "Well, no need. We've done it for you."

Jack walked out of the stage wings carrying a giant envelope, emblazoned with the symbol of the Four Horsemen.

"Now, Art, I took a guess. North of one-hundred and forty. Am I right?" Arthur chuckled and Henley pulled the paper with his account balance out. "That's one-hundred and forty _million_ , by the way."

The two men chuckled and Henley asked, "I'm sorry, Merritt. How can he be right about his balance and everyone else be wrong?"

"I think possibly because he, too, is wrong." Merritt looked out back to the audience, "Everybody, take out your paper. And using the flashlight under your seat, start to warm up that paper. I think your correct balance begins to appear."

Clary shifted in anticipation, just _feeling_ it in her gut that something _big_ was going to happen. Everyone waved the flashlights over their paper, their bank account balances appearing slowly.

"Now, Art, don't worry, we have a flashlight for you." Jack walked back onto the stage with an extremely large flashlight and the audience laughed. "Yes."

Jack switched the light on and Daniel said, "Whoa!" as he was temporarily blinded. Henley laughed at him. "Look."

The numbers on the paper began to change and Henley breathed out, "Huh? Wow."

"What's going on there, Daniel?" Merritt asked his fellow Horseman.

The longer haired man looked at the paper, "Wait. This is weird. A second ago, it said $144,579,651. But now...Now it says $70,000 less."

"Josepha, can you stand up?"

"Yes."

Merritt pointed out at the woman, "Now, what is your new number?"

"$70,562 now in my account." The audience erupted into cheers.

Henley shot a look at Arthur, her voice holding a false questioning quality, "Is it possible that Josepha's balance went up the exact amount that Art's went down?"

Jack smirked, waving the flashlight, "Hey. Check it out. It's happening again."

"Is it?"

"Wow. It is." Henley read out how much the money went down, "Art's balance has gone down another 280K."

"Dina Robertson? What did yours say?" Merritt asked.

"$281,477." Dina read out and the crowd cheered again.

Henley addressed the audience, "We have a confession to make."

"She's right. We lied about something," Jack added.

"Yes," Daniel admitted. "None of you were chosen at random."

"All of you have one thing in common," Merritt told them.

Henley looked close to tears as she spoke, genuinely sad, "Everyone in this room was a victim of the hard times that hit one of America's most treasured cities."

"Some of you lost your houses, your cars," Merritt said.

"Your businesses," Jack added.

"Your loved ones," Daniel finally said. "But all of you were insured by the same company."

All four of the Horseman pointed at Arthur, saying simultaneously, "Tressler Insurance."

The audience made a collective noise of disapproval.

"You were abandoned."

"You were loop-holed..." Henley called.

"...out of your settlements," Jack finished.

A man from the audience suddenly stood, "Whoa! Whoa! I've got $82,000 in my bank account! It says it right here on my cell phone! Everybody, look at your cell phones right now! Everybody!"

Every person in the audience began to cheer.

" _Is this for real?_ " Dylan asked.

Fuller sounded stressed, " _I don't know._ "

" _Is this happening?_ " Dylan demanded.

" _I don't know! I can't tell!_ "

"Yes, it is!" Clarissa finally said, a frown on her face. "And we have to move now, or we'll lose them again! They aren't bluffing."

On stage, the Four Horseman were moving away. "Now or never, Rhodes!" Clary called into the device, standing up as she saw Arthur chained to the stage.

" _We got confirmation_ ," Fuller relayed. " _It's really happening. They robbed him._ "

" _Do not let them get away_ ," Dylan growled back and Clary dashed down the stairs, seeing Jack and Daniel fist-bump.

The audience started to yell angrily at the Tressler man, who could only stand there and deal with the people's anger. Clarissa reached the stage as Merritt and Henley high-fived, jumping up and heading for the Horsemen.

Clary glared at Daniel who merely waved and as Clary reached for her gun, Jack grabbed the brunette girl's hand, tugging her into his chest. The Wilder man kissed her deeply, stealing her breath away before releasing her but kept his hands at her waist. It was completely unexpected but Clarissa had noticed that Jack was sometimes prone to unexpected signs of affection, especially when he could possibly be arrested by his girlfriend. The crowd hooted and Clary stepped back quickly, glancing over at Dylan.

"Stop!" Dylan yelled, moving towards the stage. "Stop! Nobody move!"

Clarissa's eyes widened, it was in FBI nature to call out the next phrase, "Dylan! Don't say—"

"Freeze!"

Dylan got onto the stage and Clary slapped a hand to her forehead and as one of the hypnotized women yelled, "Quarterback!"

"We are the Four Horseman." Dylan almost reached the Horsemen, who shot up as they grabbed ropes dangling from the ceiling as they spoke. "Goodnight."

Clary jumped to the side as Dylan hit the floor, buried underneath twelve 'football players.' Repressing the urge to snicker at her complaining – and slightly crushed – partner, Clary headed to the stairs that she knew headed for the roof. Alma wasn't far behind Clary, not knowing exactly what she was going to do, seeing the kiss that the brunette agent shared with the youngest Horseman.

The green-eyed woman dashed after the Horsemen, hopping over a wall. She heard the puff behind her that belonged to Alma Dray and glanced back to make sure the French woman was okay.

 **XXXXX**

Clary kept chasing after Daniel Atlas, having lost Jack, Merritt and Henley. They were running through a large group of people enjoying the Mardi Gras celebrations.

Daniel passed down an alley, Clary right behind him. Alma had slowed down a bit, already tiring and Daniel jumped onto a wall.

"Stop!" The curly-haired Horseman froze, staring down at the petite brunette who was pointing her gun at him. Alma stopped beside Clary, her own gun raised. She heard Dylan turning the corner and wiggled the gun at Daniel, indicating that he should go. The man gave her a slight smile before he jumped off the wall.

"What are you doing?" Dylan yelled and Clary sent him a pointed look. The man nodded stiffly, understanding in some way, and kept running, chasing the Four Horsemen that they all knew he wouldn't be able to catch.

 **XXXXX**

"You didn't check your pocket, did you?" Clarissa asked kindly, watching the frustration on Dylan's face. They had tracked 'Daniel Atlas' to the bathroom of the Napoleon, only for Dylan to realise he had been tracking himself. The man's face was contorted in annoyance, remembering bumping into a police-uniform-wearing Jack Wilder in the crowd.

"What?" Dylan ran the devices together, receiving a beeping noise in response. "I'm tracking myself!"

Clarissa gently plucked the tracked phone from Dylan's hand and threw it into the pot of one of the plants nearby and dragged Dylan over to the bar. He needed to relax, to just focus on something other than the FBI's repeated failure. The Rhodes man was Clary's best friend and she hated seeing him how he was at that moment. A drink or two would do them some good.

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **My exams are over so I'm going to update more.**

 **I'm going to be honest, I've kinda lost inspiration for my other story,** ** _Desperado_** **, so I don't know how that is going to go. I plan on finishing it, I promise, but I don't know how long it will take for me to write. Please be patient!**

 **Anyway,** ** _The Empress_** **is almost finished and a sequel is in the works, but it all depends on you, my wonderful readers, if you want to see a continuation of Clary and Jack (and the rest of the Horsemen's) story.**

 **Thank you for sticking with this story! Please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	10. CHAPTER 9

**_Egg On The Face_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

" _The Horsemen left egg on the face of what they call the alphabet agencies, calling into question the efficacy of the FBI's task force as well as the man in charge of the investigation, Special Agent Dylan Rhodes, who was publicly ridiculed, and even tackled at tonight's performance. Talk about a fumble. This is quickly becoming a national story, as The Horsemen have now seemingly pulled off the impossible for the second time in as many days. Two nights ago in Vegas, The Horsemen seemingly robbed a bank in Paris..._ "

Dylan and Clary were sitting on barstools, the woman glaring at the TV. The reporter on the nightly news was not helping the situation – the FBI were already being looked down upon and the reporter was only fueling the fire.

"Turn that crap off," Clarissa instructed the bartender, who didn't argue with the woman after seeing the glare on her face.

The male agent coughed, fidgeting in his seat as Alma walked into the bar. "Hey. What are you doing?"

"We're having a drink," Dylan told the blonde, indicating himself and the brunette beside him. He'd already had a few drinks in him and he was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol burning through his bloodstream.

"I came to get you. I'm worried about you."

"You're worried about _me_. Well, I'm worried about Clary," the Rhodes man turned to Clary who took a sip of her drink. "Atlas. You had him."

"Dylan," Clary looked directly at him, "I am a lot of things, but I am not someone who is okay with shooting an unarmed man. I wouldn't have done it anyway and you know that. So do not get on your high and mighty horse and tell me how I should have used any means necessary, like _firing a bullet_ into his back, to arrest him."

"Yeah, but you...You let him go. Didn't you?" Clary shrugged, neither confirming or denying, and Dylan turned his attention back to Alma, grabbing her arm in a tight grip, just about ready to have a go at anyone. "A pretty French girl shows up out of the blue, acts like she's my partner—"

"Let go of my arm," Alma instructed.

"—and then basically helps my partner let the bad guy go? Who exactly are you anyway?"

The blonde French woman grabbed Dylan and slammed his face into the bar. Dylan grunted, "I thought you said you were a desk agent."

Alma rolled her eyes and picked up her bag which had fallen.

"Not bad," the older agent complimented and picked up a notebook with a drawing of the Eye of Horus. "What is this? What's the Eye of Horus?"

The French agent snatched the book back, "Oh, certainly nothing I want to get into tonight. You're dismissive enough about me when you're sober. Find your way back yourself."

Alma stalked out of the bar and Dylan stared at her for a moment. He threw himself back onto the stool and turned to Clary for answers.

"The Eye of Horus is Egyptian mythology, but you need to ask Alma," Clarissa offered. "You know, you could try being nicer to her. That grip on her arm was pretty tight. And Rhodes, don't blame me for not being cold-hearted."

Dylan looked at Clary and nodded, "Sorry Clary."

The two turned back to their drinks in silence, hoping that the alcohol would wash away their feelings of failure and self-disappointment.

Clary's voice was quiet when she spoke, "I don't mind, Dylan. But…you need to stop lashing out at us."

 **XXXXX**

"How much longer is this going to continue, papa?"

Clary's question made her father look up at her in confusion, "How much longer is what going to continue?"

"The lying. The running in circles." Clarissa's hands were tangled in her hair and she was reminded yet again, why she hated drinking so much. Her head was throbbing and her words were a bit slurred. She'd only recently come back from the bar and had decided to speak to her father. "I can't take this much longer. Every year of my twenty-four years of life has been a lie, a big ploy to protect my identity until the endgame. My _name_ isn't even my real one!"

"You want out." The statement wasn't said as a question. Clarissa hadn't been able to sit down and have a proper conversation with her father for a while and she didn't want to ruin it by allowing her father to think she wanted to abandon him. She'd _never_ do that.

"No!" Clary grabbed the hands of her father, dropping down to sit beside him, "No, papa. I want…I don't know what I want, not as a whole. But I know I want to be with Jack, that I want to become a child psychologist – to help children, like no one ever helped you – and I want to be free of this… _vengeance._ Papa, this is not _V for Vendetta_ , and I'm glad it's not. Because if it was, you'll be dead at the end of this story." The brunette let out a shaky breath, "I can't lose anyone else, not like mom…"

Clary's father scrubbed at his face, seeing the truth in his daughter's words, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. The man didn't want anyone Clarissa to lose anyone else either, not like he had lost his wife years ago, but he _needed_ to enact his revenge. He had only been young when his future wife had become pregnant with Clarissa and still, even at twenty-four, he treated the strong, young woman as if she was still a baby that needed his constant protection. Although, he's apparent need to protect her was dulled with his use of her in his plans.

"Go get some sleep, Riss."

Clary closed her eyes briefly and nodded, knowing that she couldn't argue with him. He was too stubborn, much like she was. "Goodnight, papa."

 **XXXXX**

The brunette had missed the conversation between Alma and Dylan, having immediately crashed in bed. Whatever had happened, had notified Dylan of a cult-like organization called the Eye and made Alma and Dylan increasingly awkward around each other.

"Your fears are correct," the tech-expert told Dylan, inspecting his phone. "This is not and has never been your phone. It's a clone in every way, except for this. A bug. Someone has heard every call, read every text."

Dylan's phone had been glitching and apparently, Daniel had somehow switched Dylan's phone with a copy. Clary assumed it was during the 'soda-accident' in the interrogation room.

"That's how they were able to stay ahead of us," Fuller realised and Clary widened her eyes comically.

"Oh my God… _no!?_ Fuller, you are the _smartest_ man I've ever met. No one else could've ever figured that out, especially after being _told_ that Dylan's phone was a copy, intended to send the Four Horsemen sensitive information." Fuller glared at the sarcastic woman's comment.

Clary turned to Dylan next, "There was only one time Daniel could have gotten his hands on your phone. Think 'soda can.'"

"God damn it!" Dylan cried, realising what Clary had realised and looked at a man nearby, "Get me Atlas' interrogation tape."

"Yes, sir. I have it on the hard drive. Picture's up."

The interrogation tape played and Clary stared at it closely.

"Okay, fast forward. Go on, go on. Freeze!" The man froze the tape at Dylan's command. "Okay. Frame by frame. Go on. Play it through. Ah! Stop. Zoom in tighter. Tighter." Daniel Atlas looked at the camera in the tape, sliding the phone into his back pocket. "There. That's where he took my phone. Is that thing transmitting?"

"Only when you're making a call or sending a text," the woman told Dylan. "Plus I removed the bug."

"All right. Put it back in and turn on the phone. They don't know that we know about the bug. As of this instant, we are ahead of them. We need to keep it that way. Understand? Find my real phone and track it."

"Already did. As of about twenty minutes ago, it's in New York City," Clary told Dylan, alright with technology herself. The woman pushed herself away from the computer she'd used and grinned. "We're closing in."

"Good. I wanna cut 'em off at the knees. They got power? Cut it. They got phones, electricity, water? Cut it. Squeeze 'em out. I want 'em to feel our presence. And get us an airplane!"

"Demanding, Dylan! What did I say about that?"

 **XXXXX**

Dylan, Fuller, Alma and Clarissa got out of the black SUV, Clary's insanely fast driving getting them there sooner than they expected. Alma looked about ready to faint…or throw up.

"My guys are ready to go," Dylan told a broad-shouldered man. "Let's do this quickly—"

"Uh. No," the man cut Dylan off.

Clary raised a brow, "Excuse me?"

"She doesn't have jurisdiction here," the man looked at Alma. The French woman looked insulted and Clary lifted a brow at the man.

"She's Interpol. She's with me," Dylan argued.

The man didn't flinch, "She stays."

" _Excuse me_?" The young brunette repeated, more of an edge to her voice.

"What? What?" Alma exclaimed, annoyed.

"Stay in the car," Dylan told her and turned to Clarissa, tilting his head at Alma. "You too, watch her."

Clary glared but did she was told, feeling like a child who needed to be protected all the time. She was an _FBI agent_ , but Clary knew that Dylan just wanted to protect her. "Fine, but I don't like it."

 **XXXXX**

Alma was staring out the window, while Clarissa picked at her nails. The agents hadn't been in the building long but Clary was already growing bored.

" _All units, cover the north exit now!_ " Fuller's voice called through the walkie-talkie and Clary straightened, her hand already itching for the door handle.

"Clear on Evan," the agent in the front seat responded.

" _Block every possible exit._ "

At the same time as Clary moved, Alma opened her own door and climbed out, ignoring the agent's call of, "Hey! Get back..."

Alma headed to the man on the phone who had just unlocked his car. "FBI. Sort of. I need your car." The French woman grabbed the keys. "Thanks."

"What? What?"

Clary flashed her badge at a young woman who had just gotten out of her car, a beautiful red Ferrari. "FBI. Emergency. Car. Thanks. I'll try to bring it back in one piece." She snatched the keys from the woman's hand and got into the driver's seat, tearing down the street, leaving tyre marks on the ground.

 **XXXXX**

The pair saw Dylan ran out of a building and Alma pulled to a stop to allow the agent to get into the car, while Clary kept driving after who she could only assume was Jack.

"Alma? You got Dylan?" Alma's voice, and Dylan's, filtered through Clarissa's phone, the two obviously bickering and Clary laughed. "I guess you do. Stay behind me."

Clarissa was right on Jack's tail, driving dangerously fast and zooming around corners. She did not want to catch Jack, but with the way he was driving, Clary was really worried that there would be a Jack alive to _catch_.

Jack and Clary managed to just past by a reversing truck, but Alma and Dylan got stuck behind. "Shit," Clarissa swore, glancing over her shoulder and pressing harder on the accelerator.

Jack took out a row of bikes with his car, something that Clary avoiding and she noticed Alma and Dylan speeding behind them.

They kept driving, pushing their cars to their limits and swerving through traffic. Clary shook her head as they turned on Fifty-ninth Street Bridge and the traffic got heavier.

"Shit."

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Chapter nine up, tell me what you think.**

 _ **The Empress**_ **only has twelve chapters and an epilogue and then it's over.**

 **Please review, favourite, follow!**

 **~ Raven**


	11. CHAPTER 10

**_High-Speed Chases_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

The only way Clary could actually see and follow Jack was because he was the only person on the bridge driving like a moron. Jack managed to zoom past a bus, which swerved in between Jack and Clary, and Alma and Dylan, who had trouble following the brunette agent in their own vehicle.

"Are you shitting me right now!?" Clary cried, exasperated, swerving into the left lane again. The bus didn't move even as she beeped furiously at it.

The Sinclair woman punched her borrowed car's steering wheel and swore under her breath. It happened in only a moment, a mere moment was all it took for _it_ to happen. Jack lost control of his car and Clary felt as if an elephant was sitting on her chest; she couldn't breathe at all and could only manage a strangled gasp.

Jack's car was only separated by the bus in front of hers and she saw clearly as Jack's car hit the barricade and rolled, over and over again, finally landing on the roof.

Clary gasped, "No…" She breathed in, trying to get air into her lungs. "NO!"

Alma and Clary pulled over, albeit the brunette more recklessly, and Clary was out of her 'borrowed' car in a second, running over to the car. Dylan was beside her, both heading to see if Jack was still alive.

Dylan reached the door first, tearing it off and trying to get Jack out. The car sparked, flames jumping and Fuller ran over, instructing everyone to stay back. Fuller tugged at Dylan as Clary stood frozen, staring at the car. It couldn't be happening again – the Sinclair girl was unable to move, fear gripping her heart.

Why was it that it was always cars? Cars _always_ took away the people she lov— _cared_ about.

"Come on, man! Get out!" Clarissa jolted forward at Fuller's voice and she snagged the corner of Dylan's jacket. She hated to admit it, but Jack was probably already dead. There was nothing they could do for him. But Clary could try to save Dylan.

"He's gonna die in here," Dylan retorted.

"Please," Clary pleaded, her voice breaking slightly. "Please! Dylan, move!"

Fuller added, "Leave him! There's nothing you can do!"

Clary let out a sob as flames jumped around the car. "I can't lose you too, Dylan, so get your ass moving!"

"Let's go! Leave him!"

"The paper!" Dylan exclaimed, grabbing the paper Jack had been adamant to keep from Dylan. Clarissa gave another weak tug, Dylan finally moving.

"Dylan! Let's go! Let's go! Come on!" Dylan and Fuller ran back, the Rhodes man just managing to catch Clary's arm as he turned and pushed her in front of him, to protect her as much as he could.

"No…" Clary sobbed again. Jack was—the car exploded, throwing the agents forward. Fuller and Dylan hit the car, but Clarissa fell to the ground, her head smacking against the concrete. Black spots clouded her vision as she struggled up.

"No…" The brunette repeated. "No! Jack!"

She was crying now, big, heaving sobs and tears that ran like rivers down her cheeks. Alma pulled the crying woman into a hug and Clary clung to the French woman like she was keeping her afloat in the ocean. "No! He can't be gone! I can't—I can't lose someone else. Not again!"

The blonde could only smooth her hand over Clarissa's hair and watch the car in flames.

 **XXXXX**

Dylan had sent Clarissa home, hoping that it would help.

It didn't, because Clary didn't go home. She had sat in the back of an ambulance and the paramedic had checked her head. No concussion apparently, but the paramedic suggested that she take it easy for a few days. It had only taken the woman five minutes to decide that she wasn't just going to sit there in the back of an ambulance.

She sat in silence, honestly trying to remain where she was while the paramedic was away, her head in her hands and her face a perfect mask. After a solid three minutes of crying into Alma's shoulder, Clary had shut down – practically reverting back to how she was before she met Jack. Just worse.

With what could only be described as a growl, Clarissa got off the gurney, replaced her gun and badge at her waist. The brunette gripped the necklace she always wore – the one that had belonged to her mother – for a moment of comfort before she quietly slid out of the ambulance and headed to where Alma and Dylan were.

 **XXXXX**

" _Approaching the warehouse. Units five and six cover the north and south entrances. We are going for the vault._ "

Dylan had not been impressed when Clary had shown up, but as he had been one of the only few that had known about the relationship between Jack and Clarissa, he couldn't bring it up with Evans. He also noticed a necklace that hung snugly around her neck, usually it was hidden under her shirt but now Clary was tightly gripping it between her fingertips, allowing it to be seen.

The team walked into the room where the safe was supposed to be, only to see a blank, empty room.

"Hey. Where's the safe?" Cowan asked, "Where's the safe?"

"What is this?" Evans asked as the agents came to a halt in the room.

Cowan looked around, "Where the hell is the goddamn safe?"

"We just moved it while you were outside," the man from the facility explained. "Evans' orders."

"What?"

"I never said that," Evans denied and Clary raised a brow.

"Sir, you got a phone call and said Washington wants the safe moved."

Evans shook his head, "You never heard that come out of my mouth, Agent."

"What happened?" Cowan demanded, grabbing the man's jacket. "What happened? You tell me what's going on, because this is bullshit!"

"No!" Dylan yelled, realising what was happening and Evans began to play an imaginary violin in mid-air.

"Jesus Christ," Dylan complained and Clarissa swore lowly.

Cowan moved closer to Evans, "Sir? Sir? What are you doing?"

"I think it's Beethoven's Concerto," Dylan remarked.

"Yeah." Clary nodded and commented dryly, "It is _clearly_ in D-Major. I can't believe you didn't know that, _Cowan_." The way the Sinclair woman said the other agent's name was as if it was a disease or an insult.

Dylan grinned slightly, glad that the brunette wasn't completely emotionless and without humor. Something about insulting Cowan was always fun. "Where's the safe?"

"His team is loading the truck."

Fuller, Dylan and Clarissa ran out of the building, only to see the truck pulling away. The two male agents yelled until the driver pulled the truck over.

"What the hell's going on?" The driving agent demanded, "We got our orders."

Dylan waved at the truck, "Now you've got new orders. Open it up."

When the agent didn't move, Clarissa glared, " _Now._ "

The door was opened up to reveal the safe. Cowan pointed at it, "Okay. Here's what I want. At this moment, they think that safe's leaving this site. So we stay with it. We follow it all the way to...Where's it going?"

"5 Pointz. Up the street."

"So we go to 5 Pointz. Wherever the safe goes, we go. It'll lead us right to 'em." Cowan gestured to Clary, Fuller and Dylan. "You three are with me."

The Sinclair woman lifted a sardonic brow and flipped Cowan off as soon as he turned his back. "Of course, _sir_."

 **XXXXX**

Fuller squeezed himself out from beside the safe, making Clary scoff. How Cowan had thought four people _and_ a safe would fit in a reasonably small truck comfortably, was anyone's guess.

"Guys..." Fuller showed Dylan and Clary his tablet. "Look. Office just called with this. Horsemen posted it to YouTube twenty minutes ago."

" _The point of why we're here is to say that we are not...We cannot quit now. We've started something bigger than all of us. We have to finish it,_ " Merritt was saying to the camera.

" _Remember the name Jack Wilder when you see us live, 5 Pointz, Queens, seven o'clock_ ," Henley's voice sounded thick and Clary swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting the tears that began to well in her eyes.

"Their show is in a half an hour. It's exactly where we're headed."

"I don't know, boss," Dylan said, rubbing his face. "I don't wanna be the naysayer, but these guys are kinda tricky."

"Rhodes, they're entertainers."

Clarissa scowled, "That's exactly the problem."

 **XXXXX**

The truck came to a stop and Clary let out a breath, tapping her foot nervously.

" _Agents Rhodes, Sinclair, Fuller?_ "

"Go, for us," Fuller said into the walkie-talkie.

" _We've got movement. Someone's walking toward the truck. It's a woman._ "

The door opened and the agents shouted, "Freeze!"

"Oh, shit!" Thaddeus Bradley's assistant said, seeing the guns all cocked at her. Clarissa pushed Fuller's gun away from where it was hovering near her face.

Thaddeus walked over with his film crew. "What the hell's going on?"

"Hey! It's the guy from the TV," at Cowan's words, Clary made a 'well duh' face and lowered her gun.

"Put your guns down."

Dylan walked over to Thaddeus, "Look who it is. The fifth Horseman."

"He's not," Clarissa commented, picking at her nails. Yes, Thaddeus Bradley was smart, but no, he was not the secret Horseman. Dylan was jumping to conclusions.

"Are you kidding? I'm following them, just like you are."

"I'm not following anybody anymore. You've been ahead of us this whole time. But guess what? I'm ahead of you now. Your ass is mine." Dylan told Thaddeus.

"You guys are still idiots," Thaddeus stated bluntly.

"Yeah?"

Thaddeus looked up and around, "This happens to be the former rehearsal space for Lionel Shrike. It's where I did my first show. Now, if you wanna look like even bigger idiots, why not open it? And while you're doing it, Agent Rhodes, would you mind reenacting your look of absolute befuddlement for me? It will make a wonderful cover for my DVD."

Dylan shoved his hand into the camera lens, "Open the safe."

"Go ahead," Cowan allowed and Clary let out a scoff. Since when did they listen to _Cowan's_ instructions?

"Open it."

The agent opening the safe asked, "What the hell?" The agent pulled on the lock to reveal that it was connected to scarves.

"What? Give me that." Dylan pulled on the scarves that seemed to be never ending. Thaddeus looked on, smiling smugly. "No. No!"

The lock tumblers began to move, making a clunking noise.

"What is this?" Cowan demanded, moving closer.

"Get back!" Dylan told the group of agents and they all moved away from the safe.

The door fell off, letting the agents see the hundreds – if not thousands – of balloons in the safe, which once contained money.

"Who doesn't love a good magic trick?" Thaddeus asked, still smiling, "They have you chasing empty safes again. Once again, misdirection."

The building began to glow with light and the music became louder. "The show is starting," Cowan told the agents. "Move out."

Clary hovered unnecessarily behind Dylan, watching Thaddeus with a calculated expression. The man smiled, "The question I'd be asking now, Agent Rhodes is…'What happened to the real one?'"

"Yeah, that's what we're all freakin' thinking. Now shut up, so we can figure that out."

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Clary is not invincible, I'm just putting that out there. She has fears and flaws. Although she's not scared of driving cars, even after her mother's death in a car accident, she is terrified of losing those she loves. Just wanted to say that because I'm getting the feeling that Clary hasn't really developed in the book.**

 **Let me know what you think.**

 **Thank you to everyone reading this story, it means a lot to me!** **Please review and favorite/follow, it's much appreciated.**

 **~ Raven**


	12. CHAPTER 11

**_Final Act_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

The building rippled and Clary kept her eyes glued to the projection as she pushed herself through the crowd with the other agents. The remaining three Horseman were projected up on the building, the team explaining their final magic act.

" _What is magic?_ " Daniel appeared in the projection. " _Magic is deception. But deception designed to delight, to entertain, to inspire._ _It is about belief._ "

" _Faith_ ," Merritt added, appearing beside the projection of Daniel.

" _Trust_ ," Henley finished.

The audience cheered and the building rippled again, showing only Merritt. " _Without those qualities, magic, as an art form, would no longer exist._ "

" _But what happens if these qualities are not used for their higher purpose? And instead they're used to cheat, lie,_ " Henley asked.

" _For personal gain or for greed. Then it's no longer magic._ "

Merritt appeared, " _It's crime._ "

" _So tonight, for our final act_ ," Henley began, " _you're gonna help us set a few things right_." With those final words, the three remaining Horsemen disappeared and the building became normal again.

"What's going on here, Rhodes, Sinclair?" Cowan demanded.

Dylan shouted to be heard above the audience cheers, "I don't know."

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you," Clary admitted with a simple shrug, having a deep hatred for the other agent.

The lights started again, leading to a podium on the roof and Cowan pointed, "There they are on the roof. Let's move! Go, go, go!"

"Dylan! Clarissa!" Alma shouted, suddenly appearing and catching Dylan's jacket.

"FBI, coming through!" Cowan continued, shoving through the crowd.

"What are you doing here?" Clary asked loudly to be heard above the yelling of the audience. The brunette hitched a thumb over her shoulder at Dylan, "This dumbass doesn't trust you, remember?"

The dark-haired man glared while the blonde woman grinned quickly at her, before directing her attention back to Clary's partner.

Alma stared into Dylan's eyes, "They're going in the wrong direction and you know it."

"Rhodes! Sinclair! I need all personnel now!"

"You need to trust me," Alma pressed. "Take your leap of faith."

Clary swore low under her breath and nodded stiffly. She trusted Alma, without a doubt, and the younger woman made eye contact with Dylan and nodded again. Clary headed off immediately, letting Alma and Dylan trail after her, knowing that where the other agents were running was a ploy made by the Horsemen.

 **XXXXX**

The trio ran into a building, passing by shelves of miscellaneous items. They finally reached the warehouse that had the device the Horsemen used to project their images onto the building.

" _And thank you for being such an incredible and dedicated audience._ " Henley's voice floated into the warehouse and the agents gave a start, following the sound of the female Horseman's voice.

" _Unfortunately, like all good things, it must come to an end._ " Alma, Clarissa and Dylan ran up the stairs, hoping to reach the Horsemen before they disappeared.

The agents made it to the roof, shoving open the door and attempting to wade through the crowd of people. One person's hand brushed against Clary's rear and the culprit – whether their action was intentional or not – was met with an elbow to the gut. Clarissa's eyes were on the Horseman, disregarding the 'oomph' of pain from the person.

Henley smiled at the crowd, "All we wanted was to bring the world to a magic show."

"And thereby bring a little magic back to the world," Daniel finished for her.

The Horsemen grabbed each other's hands and the light gave a pulse, the three magicians vanishing from view. Dylan stopped moving, staring up at where they had been.

The Horsemen appeared on the other side of the roof and Merritt spoke. "This has been one hell of a ride for all of us. But it's time for us to disappear."

"Good night, New York," Daniel told the audience.

"And thank you for believing in us." As soon as Merritt stopped speaking, the three began to run, heading for the end of the stage they were on.

"Stop!" Dylan yelled, pulling out his gun. "Freeze!"

"No!" Alma yelled and Clarissa shoved Dylan's hands up just as he fired the gun. The Horsemen jumped off the side of the building, exploding into a rain of money.

"I'm sorry," Alma apologized as the money fell around them. Clary turned, letting the two have their moment. She didn't bother apologizing because she wasn't really sorry for moving the gun and potentially saving the Horseman's lives.

"You were right," the grumpy agent admitted. "It's bigger than all of us."

"This is one time I'm not happy being right."

Dylan nodded, "So I guess this is it."

"Is it?" Alma questioned and the two leant forward, kissing. Clary grinned slightly as she glanced over her shoulder at the couple.

The kiss ended and Alma walked away, quickly squeezing Clarissa's arm as she passed. Dylan watched after her and Clary leant her head on Dylan's shoulder, "It's okay."

"Dylan!" Fuller yelled, pushing through the crowd. "Clarissa! Dylan!"

"Hey."

Fuller handed Dylan some of the notes, "You see that?"

Each of the bank notes had a picture of one of the Four Horsemen's faces and Clary felt her heart tighten at the picture of Jack. The woman plucked the notes from Dylan's hands and flipped the notes over, looking at them in interest.

"What?" Dylan asked, annoyed. "Where's the real money?"

 **XXXXX**

Dylan and Clarissa were escorted to Thaddeus Bradley's cell, the man having been arrested after the money stolen from the safe _miraculously_ ended up in his car. The heels of Clary's boots clicked against the ground, the only sound in the entire building.

"I've been framed," Thaddeus said as soon as Clary and Dylan walked into the cell.

Clarissa lifted a brow, "I'm sure you were."

The Sinclair woman didn't care. Thaddeus Bradley needed to be knocked down a few pegs and she was more than happy to do it.

"Yeah, but I can prove it," the man insisted. "I always do. Just like I predicted that you'd play the fool."

"Let's just drop the theatricality, all right?" Dylan offered, waving his hands. "The cameras aren't rolling in here." He turned to the two guards. "Fellas, can we have a few minutes with our friend here alone, please."

"Sure."

The door was shut and locked back up and Clarissa folded her arms.

"All right. I got information to trade." Dylan hummed, not really caring about what Thaddeus was saying. Clary shrugged and picked at her nails, leaning against the bars. "I believe that's how it's done. Huh?"

"If it's of some value," Dylan stated.

Thaddeus walked a few steps away, "These bars give a man time to think. And I'm pretty sure I know how they did it. Remember the rabbit trick in the second show? The box was never empty."

 _There was a whirring sound as Daniel pressed a button on a remote and a large mirror lowered from the roof of the room holding the safe._

"The room wasn't either. After gaining access to the warehouse, the Horsemen left the real safe and transformed the whole room into a giant rabbit box."

 _The mirror hit the ground, giving the illusion that the room was empty._

"You go charging in there, thinking the safe was already gone. Missing the trick. Again. Which was to make you think the safe had already been stolen, so you'd drop your guard and leave. Now, while you were busy playing with balloon animals, someone was breaking into the warehouse."

 _A hooded man walked right passed Agent Evans who was still playing the violin and threw a sledgehammer at the mirror. The mirror shattered and the man casually walked in and opened the safe with a blowtorch._

"Who?" Thaddeus paused for effect.

 _The man pulled down his hood, revealing a very-much-alive Jack Wilder. "Holy shit," the young man breathed, staring at the stacks of money in the safe._

"Jack Wilder."

Clary glared at Thaddeus and said bluntly, "He's dead."

"No. No way," Dylan agreed. "He died right in front of our eyes."

Thaddeus tilted his head, "Unless, of course, he didn't."

"No one could have survived that crash," Clary retorted. "I know that first-hand."

And she did. Clary's mother Lillian, commonly known as Lilly, had died in a car accident after a stolen car had run her into a barricade. The car had flipped, just like Jack's had, and her mother had been pronounced dead at the scene. That had been it – no rush to the hospital to save her, just a cold body and a funeral to plan. It still hurt to think about and the brunette didn't like how she was but Clary still loved the rush she felt when she was in a car and pushing the speed limit.

"He escaped in a standard FBI vehicle, right? Led you to the bridge. Where the other Horsemen were waiting with an identical replacement car. It only took a split second for you to lose contact with it and make the switch."

 _Merritt was driving the bus that had swerved in front of Clary and Alma as they drove. Jack continued on and a cadaver in an identical car disconnected from the front of the bus. Daniel, wearing a fake mustache and driving a taxi, swerved out of the way as the decoy car smashed into the barrier. The Horsemen laughed as the car flipped and rolled._

"When you crawled into that burning car, quite heroically, I might add, you almost died trying to rescue what I assume was a cadaver from the morgue."

 _Jack walked down the hall of the hospital, wheeling a tray holding a dead body. The arm of the cadaver fell out and the Wilder man threw it back in, before wiping his hand on his shirt in disgust._

"Why go through such an elaborate and dangerous plan just to frame one guy?" Dylan asked, still confused.

"They never kept any of the money they took, so it couldn't have been for personal reasons," Clary added, walking near Thaddeus and analysing his facial expressions. One stood out – fear. Fear that he would stay in prison.

"Yeah, that's the part," Thaddeus rubbed his head, "I haven't been able to put together yet. But I just gave you information that is substantially more important."

"No. Not really," Dylan denied.

"What?"

Clary smirked lightly, "See, we really didn't need that information, because we have something a bit better. It wasn't the _Four Horsemen's_ personal vendetta, it was someone _else's_."

"We finally got a chance to really look into Lionel Shrike," Dylan continued. "His comeback attempt. His accident. The insurer who denied the family's claim? Tressler Insurance."

"The bank that carried the note?" Clarissa asked before answering, "Credit Republican of Paris. Coincidence? I think not."

"What do you make of that?" Dylan asked.

Thaddeus tossed back his head, arms crossed, "A sucker is born every minute."

"So, here's our new theory," Clary began. "The legend is that the 'Eye' is everywhere. Waiting for the truly great magicians to distinguish themselves from the mediocre ones."

Dylan stepped forward, his face menacing, "Maybe that was you. Deep down inside you wanted nothing more than to be part of the 'Eye,' but you were never invited. So you try to destroy them. But instead what happens?"

"You pissed them off," Clarissa growled lowly.

Thaddeus leaned forward, "The Eye isn't real."

"Okay, then, explain then. Who's behind all this?"

"Somebody with an obsession. Meticulous," Thaddeus accused, voice rising.

"Who?"

"Somebody prepared to sacrifice everything," Thaddeus continued. "Somebody so prepared to lose that they wouldn't even be a suspect until the trick was done."

Dylan flicked his hand, "We don't want a profile. We need a name. Who? Who?"

"I don't know who. But they had to have access to the warehouse to plant the mirrors. Always a step ahead of me. And the FBI. Got past them not once, not twice, but consistently. Almost as if they were on the in..." Thaddeus paused, turning away from the bars only to meet an empty cell.

"The inside," Clarissa and Dylan whispered in unison, their voices echoing around the cell and Thaddeus turned to see them on the other side of the cell door.

"You two," Thaddeus breathed, staring at the pair. Dylan's face was hard, a tiny smug smile pulling at his lips. Clarissa merely stood there, silent and still.

Dylan hummed and Thaddeus' eyes flickered down. "Why?"

"That is the question, isn't it?" Clary teased, pulling on leather gloves and leaning against the wall. This was it – all of it, _everything_ , came down to this.

"You're right," Dylan said quietly. "I can't tell you how long I've waited to see the look on your face. How long Clary has waited to finally see this moment – all of this over."

"Who are you?" Thaddeus demanded, "What do you want from me?"

"What do we want? I want you to spend the rest of your life in this cell, staring at four walls and wondering how you missed it," the Rhodes man looked around the cell.

"How you let yourself be so blinded by your ego that you convinced yourself that you were one step ahead when you were always two steps behind," Clary mentioned casually. "How you let your arrogance become your downfall."

The two agents turned from the cell, walking away, ignoring the calls of Thaddeus, "Dylan? Clarissa? Wait a minute. Dylan! How did this happen?"

Dylan pulled at his tie, taking it off. Clary clipped a cloak with a hood around her neck – one that seemed to appear out of nowhere – and threw the blazer she had been wearing off to the side.

 _Jack walked into Dylan as he got off the boat, but the older man didn't leave a card in his jacket pocket, leaving it to Clary instead. Dylan had been at every Horsemen's performance where they received their Tarot card, planting them himself. And Clarissa was always beside him, wearing a smirk._

"Dylan! Clarissa! Why!?"

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Ahhh! Clarissa is with the Eye with Dylan!**

 **Who saw that coming, be honest. It will help my writing if I knew how transparent my plots were.**

 **So, two updates for you because my updates have been lacking. Okay, so Chapter 12 and an epilogue and then** ** _The Empress_** **is over! Oh my God!**

 **Please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	13. CHAPTER 12

**_Carousels of Truth_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

* * *

"Oh, my God," Merritt said as soon as the Four Horsemen walked closer to the carousel. They were in the park, following the clues that led them to the Lionel Shrike Tree. Dylan Rhodes stood in front of it, calmly waiting for the Horsemen.

Jack chuckled and the Mentalist continued, "I did not see that coming. That's impossible!"

"No way," Jack breathed.

Dylan didn't speak, gesturing to something or someone the Four Horsemen couldn't see. A type of large black cloak seemed to appear in midair, spiraling to the ground and warping to reveal that the cloak was in fact, housing a person. Red lips could be seen underneath the hood and the figure tossed it back.

Clarissa Sinclair stared back at the Horsemen, red lips pulled into a wide smile.

She jutted out a hip, putting a hand on her hip, "Hello, Horsemen. Miss me?" The cards of the Four Horsemen, the ones that joined together, flew to Clary's hand when she flicked her wrist. "Nothing's really impossible. It's a matter of faith, trust and… _pixie dust._ "

The Horsemen chuckled again, staring at Clary with wide, intrigued eyes. Only Clarissa Sinclair would quote Peter Pan. Jack felt overwhelmed for a moment; betrayal and hurt swirling in his chest before he realised: Clary had never harmed the Four Horsemen and had helped them as much as she could at every turn and besides, he'd done something similar when he didn't tell Clarissa that he was with the Four Horsemen, a quartet of bank-robbing magicians.

"That was actually pretty good," Daniel acknowledged, finally managing to get his breath back. Dylan was a shock, but Clarissa was mind-blowing. Even though she had dated Jack, helped them with information and let Daniel escape, it was still quite a shock to see that Clarissa was working with the Eye. Her connection to Dylan, however, was still unclear.

"Thank you," Dylan thanked the Four Horsemen while Clarissa gave a mock-bow.

"When I said, 'Always be the smartest guy in the room,'" the Atlas man offered.

Dylan nodded, "We were in agreement."

Clary grinned, teasing, "You always like being the smartest guy in the room. Unless, the smartest 'guy' is _me_."

The Rhodes man nudged the Sinclair woman gently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. Daniel nodded, eyes flicking between the pair, "Okay. Right."

"Henley, sweetie, use your words," Clary teased with a small smirk as the redhead continued to silently gape at them.

"I've never seen her speechless," Daniel mentioned.

Dylan reached forward to shake Henley's hand, "We'll take that as a huge compliment."

Jack looked conflicted and Clary moved to give him a hug. The younger man kept his eyes on Dylan as he rested his chin on his girlfriend's head, "Hey, man, I'm so sorry for kicking your ass. Really."

Dylan chuckled and Clary snickered, leaning up to press a kiss to Jack's lips – a kiss he gladly returned. The Rhodes man tried to repress the glare that made it's way onto his face as the young woman kissed her boyfriend – Dylan still didn't entirely trust that kid.

"Hey, listen, for the record," Merritt bugged in. "I have always been a one-hundred-percent believer. And the amount of energy I have expended to keep these infidels on point..."

Henley laughed, hitting Merritt at the exact time that Clarissa did the same, and Dylan reassured him, "Merritt, you're in."

"God bless."

"Come." The five other adults followed after Dylan as he headed to the carousel. "The real magic is taking four strong solo acts and making them all work together. And that's exactly what you did." Dylan climbed over the railing.

"And even though there were a few…bumps, you managed to not kill each other," the green-eyed woman mentioned, looking genuinely contemplative on who would've killed who. Definitely Henley and Merritt teaming up against Daniel.

"The magic is only beginning. So welcome," Dylan continued.

Clarissa climbed over the railing as well. She smiled at the Four Horsemen, winking, "Welcome to the Eye."

Henley gasped as Dylan caught a hold of the moving carousel. Clary let out a hoot of laughter and did a front flip, landing on the carousel and pulling herself onto the horse closest to where Dylan was standing. The Four Horsemen clambered over the railing and Dylan and Clarissa shared a smile before they both disappeared.

The Four Horsemen hurriedly got onto the carousel, following after the two members of the Eye.

 **XXXXX**

"Riss."

Clarissa stopped explaining how everything had worked in the year the Horsemen had worked for the Eye (the plans she'd helped design, the deception of the FBI and the endgames: Arthur Tressler and Thaddeus Bradley) and looked over at her father. She and Jack had been sitting in an armchair, Clary half on Jack's lap and wrapped in his arms and the Four Horsemen and Clarissa had been speaking. Henley and Daniel sat close together on one couch and Merritt lay spread out over the other coach. Everyone in the room and went silent at the sound of a nickname they never used for Clary, one that apparently her father only used.

Clarissa raised a brow. She didn't get up, merely looking up at her father impassively. "What did I say? We made a deal, so get your ass moving. Plane leaves in two hours and it's a long flight to France." The brunette pointed at a suitcase in the corner of the room, "I packed your bag and remember: _woo_ her. She's _French_ , it's not easy to win us French girls over." At her last words, she smirked up at Jack and pecked his lips.

When Clary's father didn't move other than to repeat 'Riss,' Clarissa shook her head. "You're my father, papa, and I love you, but it's difficult to love your stubbornness right now."

There was a look of utter astonishment on Jack's face or hearing the gasp from Henley. _Dylan Rhodes_ stood in front of the Four Horsemen – _Dylan Rhodes_ was Clarissa Sinclair's _father_. So that was why the two were so close…well, that was a plot twist.

Dylan Rhodes shifted, staring back at his twenty-four-year-old daughter. She had grown up so much. "I don't think I should."

"Get over yourself, papa. Must all men be so stupid? She _kissed_ you, she _likes_ you."

Jack looked on as Clary stood up and glided over to Dylan to hug him tightly. They stayed like that for a moment before Clary stepped back.

"Go, papa," the brunette urged, more gently this time. "You care for Alma, just admit it."

Dylan frowned slightly and Clary waved her hands. Clary was a bit of a jack-of-all-trades with magic – she was an illusionist and escape artist, as well as being very adept with card magic and mentalism – but she specialized in using her cloak, one that she used in a variety of ways. Using the edge of her cloak, which she was still wearing, Clary threw it out, the material oddly stretching out to grab the handle of a suitcase several feet away. With another flick, the suitcase flew into the brunette's hand. The Four Horsemen were amazed, they'd never seen someone use a _cloak_ like that. A plane ticket to France appeared in her hands as she twisted them and Clarissa pushed Dylan's shoulders.

"Papa, go," the green-eyed woman insisted. "Mom died years ago and you've been obsessed with revenge for longer than that. Be happy for once – don't try to _control_ everything, you'd be too much like Daniel."

The brunette heard the huff from the Illusionist behind her and she flashed him a smug smile before looking back at Dylan and grabbing his hand.

Clary ran her fingers over the pendant hanging around her neck, the pendant that had belonged to her mother. She pulled it off and clutched it tightly in her hand, almost as if it was giving her strength. The older man's eyes followed the movement for a moment before he gathered his daughter in his arms. Lillian Sinclair, who had become Lillian Rhodes, had only been sixteen when she'd fallen pregnant with Clarissa. Dylan and Lillian had both been wild youths but their love had been real. Dylan had stayed by her side and married her, as he promised, when he turned eighteen and was accepted into the FBI academy. Dylan Rhodes had never loved anyone more than his little girl and Clary knew that. But she also knew that he couldn't be alone for the rest of his life.

The brunette nudged her father again and Dylan dropped a kiss to Clarissa's forehead, "I love you, Riss."

"I love you too, papa."

The Rhodes man headed away and Clary let out a sigh, dusting off her hands. She turned, seeing the stares of the Horsemen and she grinned, dropping into a small bow.

"Clarissa _Rhodes_ , at your service." They continued to stare, speechless, and Clary rolled her eyes and dropped back into her shared seat with Jack. "I promise you all, I'll explain _everything_."

 **XXXXX**

The lithe brunette lay on her bed, curled into her boyfriend's side. After explaining how she was Dylan's daughter to the Four Horsemen, Clary and Jack had retreated to her room and had spent hours talking about anything that came to mind. It hadn't taken very long for the dark-haired man to fall into a gentle sleep, light snores escaping his mouth.

Clary couldn't help but smile and shifted slightly. The Wilder man's arm tightened around her stomach, slurring out, "No…don't leave me."

The green-eyed girl let out a small laugh, "I'm not going anywhere."

Suddenly, Clarissa frowned. She couldn't promise that, she might still leave, disappearing one day into the night. She was scared – terrified, really – to admit _exactly_ how much she felt for Jack Wilder. She loved him, really, but Clary knew she wouldn't tell him that anytime soon. It even took years to tell her _father_ that she loved him – she did of course but Dylan had always been a little absent in her life and that was reflected in her inability to say, 'I love you' years later as a teenager. But she got over that and now both Rhodes were as close as father and daughter should be.

The brunette was always a bit flighty, Clary wasn't afraid to admit that; she chose to run from her feelings instead of face them. It had been easier when she was young: quit your job, pack up the apartment and move to another city. No connections, no past – a new life, essentially. Now, she had a 'grown-up' job and 'grown-up' commitments, ones that she couldn't just run away from. Clary was an _FBI agent_ for God's sake. But Clarissa didn't want to run this time, not from the people she was with, not from her job.

 _She couldn't._ The Sinclair woman was finally around people that loved and cared about her and she loved and cared about them too. She didn't want to cut and run and she didn't _need_ to either. Dylan's revenge was over, she had a stable job, a loving boyfriend and a team of magicians backing her up.

With a small sigh, one more of contentment than exasperation, Clary trailed her hand down to rest on her stomach, beside Jack's arm and she finally let sleep overtake her mind, letting the worry and fear she felt disappear into peaceful slumber.

Now, more than ever, Clarissa Sinclair was needed and the only reason she would run was for the good of the person that mattered the most to her.

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Last chapter! It's the last chapter! There is an epilogue, do not fear.**

 **Dylan is Clary's dad! Comment if you saw that coming, please. It was cliche, but still, I liked writing it and I hope that it wasn't too obvious throughout the story.**

 **Also, if anyone's confused, Clary's work with the cape is similar to Vince Faraday's in** ** _The Cape_** **, the 2011 TV series. Hope that gives you a better idea.**

 **Please review!**

 **~ Raven**


	14. EPILOGUE

**_Voltaire's Lessons_**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Now You See Me._** **I only own the character Clarissa Sinclair and her original plot lines and dialogue.**

 **IMPORTANT A/N AT THE END, PLEASE READ**

* * *

When Clary was little, she had always been told by her mother that she was a princess. Dylan had always told Clarissa that she didn't need a prince because she wasn't a princess – she was an _empress_ , a woman who could hold her power alone.

Clary had once been described as a ghost – cold and invisible – by her own mother. Granted, Lillian had been half asleep, drunk and had thought she was talking to her sister, but still, it stung the six-year-old's heart. Dylan told her when she had come crying to him that even if she was a ghost, it didn't mean she was cursed to remain that way.

As a child, Clarissa Sinclair always loved the work of the French writer Voltaire. She found his work to be inspiring and full of lessons she could use in her life. It was something that Clarissa could remember her French mother reading to her and it was one of few moments with her mother that Clary remembered. Lillian had died when Clarissa was only nine, so she didn't remember much of her.

The green-eyed girl still had the book composed of Voltaire's writing, her mother's handwriting in the borders, analysing the quotes of Voltaire and how important they were. The book lay in the bottom of the girl's closet, in a box that she didn't allow anyone to see.

Lillian Sinclair had died in a car accident and Clarissa remembered, at only nine, waiting at her door for her mother to come home and tell her a bedtime story. And the words of the story she had heard over and over for years still swirled around her mind.

" _Once upon a time there was an empress, trapped as a ghost in the ruins of a jeweled palace, cursed to find another soul to take her place. At least, that's what the empress heard. But, as it turned out, stories can have any ending you like._ "

Kirsty Logan had written that piece and Lillian Rhodes had always finished the story with, " _Finally, after years, The Empress found a soul, but not to take her place, instead they fell in love. And with her ghost love, she ruled happily for the rest of her immortal life…the end_."

 **XXXXX**

 _God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well._

 _~ Voltaire_

Clarissa believed that she was alive and deserved to live her life to the fullest. She wasn't going to let silly things keep her from being around the people she loved. In all honesty, the only thing Clary really had left was her family and she held them close.

 **XXXXX**

 _Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe._

 _~ Voltaire_

Magic was what people wanted to believe and Clary was more than happy to allow the people who watched her little illusions to believe that magic was _real_. And the sappy part of Clary always said that magic was real, it was only known as _love_.

Clarissa Sinclair, who had yet to embrace the Shrike name, had once promised herself that she was never going to let her family members down. She had obeyed her mother's every instruction to keep herself safe, she had followed her father's directions for enacting revenge on Arthur Tressler and Thaddeus Bradley but Clary was far from a rule-abiding child. She had a rebellious streak, much like her parents had had, and she'd be damned if she allowed anyone to squash the fire in her heart.

She was strong, she was powerful – Clarissa Sinclair was The Empress.

And she didn't need _anyone_ telling her what to do.

 **XXXXX**

* * *

 **Oh my God, the support I got for the last chapter was amazing! Thank you!**

 **Anyway,** ** _The Empress_** **has sadly come to an end, BUT: I will write a sequel that will follow the plot of** ** _Now You See Me 2_** **and all you wonderful readers have to do is FIVE DIFFERENT PEOPLE NEED TO COMMENT 'SEQUEL PLEASE' OR SOMETHING SIMILAR and then I will post the first chapter / prologue of the sequel to** ** _The Empress._**

 **Thank you again for all the wonderful support during** ** _The Empress_** **! If I post the sequel, it will be called** ** _The Emperor_** **and the title will make sense during the book.**

 **I love you all my wonderful readers and please review! Constructive criticism, like always, is highly appreciated!**

 **~ Raven**


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